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THE 



VIRGIN WIDOW. 



A PLAY. 



BY 



HENEY TAYLOR 

AUTHOR OF "PHILIP VAN ARTEVELDE." 



LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS, 
LONDON. 



1850. 

1 . 



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PREFACE, 



In a letter which Mr. Southey wrote many years 
ago, on a first and very juvenile attempt of mine 
in dramatic composition, he observed, that pure 
tragedy was what few but the young could bear. 
I felt the truth of the observation before youth 
was past ; and though there are other grounds on 
which I should have preferred the mixed drama 
— it is so much more various in its spirit, more 
wide and general in its scope — yet the oppressive- 
ness of pure tragedy would have been sufficient 
of itself to turn me away from it ere long ; and 



VI PREFACE. 

as life advances, tragedy of any kind, however 
mixed and attempered, seems to demand more of 
the hardihood, perhaps, I may say, the hardness 
of youth, than it is either likely or desirable that 
after years should be armed with. 

Comedy is doubtless a lower, and, in some 
measure, a lesser sphere ; for whilst tragedy — 
that is, the mixed and romantic tragedy — admits 
all elements, not excepting the comic, comedy 
does not admit the tragic, — which, indeed, can" 
hardly exist except through a general and pre- 
dominating effect. This, however, is the only 
element which comedy necessarily excludes. The 
mere comedy of manners and repartee which has 
been written for the last two centuries, is, no doubt, 
with all the brilliancy which it has occasionally 
exhibited, a somewhat narrow representation of 
human life. But the romantic and poetic comedy 
which preceded, includes, though not the four 



PREFACE. Vll 

seasons, yet the spring, summer, and autumn of 
nature. It is light and sweet for the most part ; 
but without losing its prevailing character of 
lightness and sweetness, it can in turn be serious, 
pathetic, and still more eminently wise. In no 
works are the pleasantries of wisdom more bright 
and abundant than in the comedy of the Eliza- 
bethan age. 

I wish it were possible, not indeed to repeat 
that comedy, but to renew the spirit which gave 
birth to it. Fictions are written in these days 
often with great power and ability; but to me 
they seem powerful only to give pain. Our 
writers of fictions would appear to despair of 
getting an answer from the popular imagination 
in any other way than by breaking it on the 
wheel. I well know that in times of rapid move- 
ment light pressures are not easily felt. But I 
venture to believe that, here and there, in the 



Vlll PREFACE. 

recesses of society, there may still be found 
persons, who, like myself, do not desire to be 
harrowed, and are better pleased to be taken 
amongst the amenities of fiction, than amongst 
its glooms and terrors. 

Ladon House, Mortlake. 
1st May, 1850. 



-;■/ 





THE VIRGIN WIDOW: 



A PLAY. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



MEN. 

Don Pedro, King of Sicily. 
Silisco, Marquis of Malespina. 
Ruggiero, Count of Arona. 
Ubaldo, Great Chamberlain. 
Ugo, Count of Arezzo. 
Gerbetto, the Kings Physician. 
Triboeo, The King's Fool. 
Chief Justiciary. 

Spadone, a Sea-captain. A Boatswain arid Mate. 
Haggai, Sadoc, and Shallum, Jews. 
Fra Martino, Chaplain to Count Ugo. 
Girolamo, Steward to Count Ugo. 
Osporco, a Farmer. 

Bruno, and Conrado, Attendants on Silisco. 
A Manager, and divers Players; Provost Marshal, and 
Marshalsmen, Courtiers, Citizens, SfC. 

WOMEN. 

Rosalba, Daughter to Ubaldo. 
Fiordeliza, her Friend. 
Aretina, Mistress to Spadone. 
Lisana, Daughter to Gerbetto. 
Mariana, Servant to Fiordeliza. 
Abbess of the Convent of San Paolo. 



THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 



ACT L 

SCENE I. 

A Quay in front of the Palazzo Malespina at Pa- 
lermo — Spadone, Boatswain, and Mate. 

spadone. 
When your Marquis turns merchant, see you the way 
of it ! No sailing orders, and as much gone in demur- 
rage as would buy a cargo. 

BOATSWAIN. 

West- South- West ! as I'm a living soul, and as 
merry a breeze as ever gave a big belly to the fore- 
topsail ! Our chaplain on board the Eombola used to 
say that there were seven cardinal sins in sea-divinity, 

B 2 



4 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act i. 

and the worst of them was to keep a fair wind wait- 
ing. 

spadone. 
And a cargo too that longs for us. When we reach 
Khodes, we shall take such a treasure of jewels and 
ingots aboard as the good ship never lodged before. 

MATE. 

Gold and jewels is a good cargo ; for 'tis they that 
bring a man fair weather in this world. 

SPADONE. 

'Tis a cargo would buy fair weather for us three 
for the rest of our lives. But we'll talk of that aboard. 
Go thou, Antonio, and get me my orders. 

MATE. 

Where shall I find you ? 

SPADONE. 

In the catacombs. Thou knowest the cavern where 
we hid those silks we brought from Genoa. Aretina 
is to meet me there. 

MATE. 

There, then, I will seek thee. 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 5 

SPADONE. 

And take heed to thy steps ; for the worthy Noah's 
forefathers, that lived in the bowels of the earth, 
were men of crooked ways, and their paths are hard 
to hit. Go aboard, boatswain, and get the water 
stowed. We shall surely sail to night. 

[Exeunt. 

Enter Gerbetto and Fra Martino. 

GERBETTO. 

I ever found your counsel wise and sure. 
One thousand ducats are well nigh my all ; 
The earnings of a life of infinite toil. 

fra martino. 
The Marquis should disperse them in a day, 
And think the ducats and the day well spent. 
And as for means of payment, you should know 
The lands of Malespina stand impledg'd 
For what he owes Count Ugo. 

GERBETTO. 

From his birth 
I have denied him nothing ; almost lov'd 

b 3 



6 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act i. 

The wants that sent him to me, hoping still 

That as he grew to ripeness, what was soft 

Would harden in him, what was hard would soften ; 

For he was of a sweet and liberal nature. 

But lending this to lose it, robs my child, 

My poor Lisana, of that little store 

I gather'd for her dowry. 

FRA MARTINO. 

For what end ? 
Not for his good,— be wiser than to think it. 
Give thou to no man, if thou wish him well, 
What he may not in honour's interest take : 
Else shalt thou but befriend his faults, allied 
Against his better with his baser self. 

GERBETTO. 

Look ! who be these ? the marquis and his friends. 
A banquet waits them at the palace. Ah ! 
A greeting by the way. He cannot pass, 
No not a dog nor cat, but he must speak. 
Let us begone, for I were loth to meet him. 

[Exeunt. 



scene it.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 



SCENE II. 

The Palazzo Malespina — Silisco, Ruggiero and 
other Noblemen. Bruno and Conrado. A Manager 
and three Flayers. Singers and Dancers, and 
amongst the former Aretina. 

silisco. 
Off with these viands and this wine, Conrado ; 
Feasting is not festivity : it cloys 
The finer spirits. Music is the feast 
That lightly fills the soul. My pretty friend, 
Touch me that lute of thine, and pour thy voice 
Upon the troubled waters of this world. 

ARETINA. 

What ditty would you please to hear, my Lord? 

SILISCO. 

Choose thou, Ruggiero. See now, if that knave . . . 
Conrado, ho ! A hundred times I've bid thee 
To give what wine is over to the poor 
About the doors. 

b 4 



8 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act i. 

CONRADO. 

Sir, this is Malvoisie 
And Muscadel, a ducat by the flask. 

SILISCO. 

Give it them not the less ; they'll never know ; 
And better it went to enrich a beggar's blood 
Than surfeit ours ; — Choose thou, Euggiero ! 

RUGGIERO. 

I! 

I have not heard her songs. 

SILISCO. 

Thou sang'st me once 
A song that had a note of either muse, 
Not sad, nor gay, but rather both than neither. 
What call you it ? 

aretina {touching her lute). 

I think, my Lord, 'twas this. 

SILISCO. 

Yes, yes, 'twas so it ran ; sing that, I pray thee. 



scene ii.] THE VIKGIN WIDOW. 9 

aretina {sings). 

I. 

I'm a bird that's free 
Of the land and sea, 

I wander whither I will ; 
But oft on the wing, 
I falter and sing, 

Oh fluttering heart, be still, 
Be still, 

Oh fluttering heart, be stilL 

ii. 

I'm wild as the wind, 
But soft and kind, 

And wander whither I may, 
The eye-bright sighs, 
And says with its eyes, 

Thou wandering wind, oh stay, 
Oh stay, 

Thou wandering wind, oh stay. 

SILISCO. 

There ! have you heard elsewhere a voice like hers ? 
The soul it reaches not is far from Heaven, 
Is't not, Ruggiero ? 



10 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act i. 

RUGGIERO. 

To say ay to that 
Were for myself to claim a place too near ; 
For it not reaches only, but runs thro' me. 

MANAGER. 

Now, had she clapped her hand upon her heart 

In the first verse which says " Oh fluttering heart " . . 

FIRST PLAYER. 

And at " oh stay " had beckoned thus or thus . . . 

SECOND PLAYER. 

And with a speaking look . . . 

MANAGER. 

But no — she could not — 
It was not in her. 

SILISCO. 

You'll not take the gold ? 
Wear this then for my sake. It once adorned 
The bosom of a Queen of Samarcand, 
And shall not shame to sit upon this throne. 

\Hangs a jewel round her neck. 



scene il] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 1 1 

ARETINA. 

My heart, my Lord, would prize a gift of yours. 
Were it a pebble from the brook. 

SILISCO. 

What ho ! 
Are not the players in attendance ? Ah ! 
A word or two with you, my worthy friends, 

FIRST SINGING GIRL. 

Why, Aretina, 'tis the diamond 

Was sold last winter for a thousand crowns. 

SECOND SINGING GIRL. 

A princely man ! 

THIRD SINGING GIRL. 

In some things ; but in others 
He's liker to a patriarch than a prince. 

FIRST SINGING GIRL. 

I think that he takes us for patriarchs, 
He's so respectful. 



12 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act I. 

SECOND SINGING GIRL. 

Tell Spadone that ; 
Bid him believe such gifts are given for nothing ; 
A diamond for a song ! . 

SILISCO. 

With all my heart ; 
We'll have the scene where Brutus from the bench 
Condemns his son to death. 'Twas you, Ruggiero, 
Made me to love that scene. 

MANAGER. 

I think, my Lord, 
We pleased you in it. 

RUGGIERO. 

Oh you did, you did ; 
Yet still with reservations : and might I speak 
My untaught mind to you that know your art, 
I should beseech you not to stare and gasp 
And quiver, that the infection of the sense 
May make our flesh to creep ; for as the hand 
By tickling of our skin may make us laugh 
More than the wit of Plautus, so these tricks 
May make us shudder. But true art is this, 



scene ii ] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 13 

To set aside your sorrowful pantomime, 

Pass by the senses, leave the flesh at rest, 

And working by the witcheries of words 

Felt in the fulness of their import, call 

Men's spirits from the deep ; that pain may thus 

Be glorified, and passion flashing out 

Like noiseless lightning in a summer's night. 

Show Nature in her bounds from peak to chasm ? 

Awful, but not terrific. 

MANAGER. 

True, my Lord : 
My very words ; 'tis what I always told them. 
Now, Folco, speak thy speech. 

BRUNO. 

A word, my Lord ; 
The Maddelena's mate is here without, 
And craves to see you. 

SILISCO. 

Call him in. Your pardon. 

[To the players. 
One moment and we'll hear you. 



14 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act i. 

RUGGIERO. 

Tis a speech 
That by a language of familiar lowness 
Enhances what of more heroic vein 
Is next to follow. But one fault it hath : 
It fits too close to life's realities, 
In truth to Nature missing truth to Art ; 
For Art commends not counterparts and copies. 
But from our life a nobler life would shape, 
Bodies celestial from terrestrial raise, 
And teach us, not jejunely what we are, 
But what we may be when the Parian block 
Yields to the hand of Phidias. 

Enter Mate. 

SILISCO. 

Well, what cheer ? 

MATE. 

Spadone sends me, Sir, for sailing orders; 
The wind is fair, and we may lose a day 
That's worth a week. 



scene II.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 15 

SIL1SCO. 

Aye, say ye so ? But stop ; 
Where may these Jews be found ? You cannot sail 
Without their warrants of delivery 
Upon the goods at Ehodes. 

BRUNO. 

My Lord, the Jews 
Have been these three hours in the outer hall 
Much kicking of their heels and cursing Meroz. 
You would have heard them, but I shut the door. 
Knowing you love fresh air. 

SILISCO. 

Oh, bring them in. 

ARETINA (to the MATE.) 

To meet him in the Catacombs ? I will. 

Take this, and tell him not thou saw'st me here. 

[ Gives him money > and exit. 

SILISCO. 

Poor gleanings of the grapes of Ephraim ! 
I had forgotten them. 



16 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act i. 

RUGGIERO. 

The day will come 
When they will not permit you to forget them. 
Your bondsman, Haggai, will be then your lord 
And master. 

SILISCO. 

In the reign of Tush and Pish. 

ruggiero. 

Farewell. I would not willingly look on 

Whilst knavery prospers. Knavery, did I say ? 

Haggai and Sadoc, if I rightly read 

The docket Nature scribbles on their skulls, 

Are not more knaves than ruffians. Bear in mind 

The Zita is in sight, which brings my friends 

From Procida. You promised you would meet me 

At vespers, on the shore, to see her in. 

[Exit: 

SILISCO. 

Farewell. And you, my friends. I thank you all. 
If business will not wait upon my leisure, 
Still less shall you. To all a kind farewell. 

[Exeunt all but Silisco and the Mate, 
Bruno and Conrado. 



scene ii.] THE VIKGIN WIDOW. 17 

Enter Haggai, Sadoc, and Shallum. 

SILISCO. 

God save you, Jews; have ye brought me those 
writings ? 

HAGGAI. 

Your worship shall behold them : here they be. 
Two skins. 

SILISCO. 

*' To the rich and worshipful Nimshi, our brother 
at Rhodes, these : " — This is the order for the trea- 
sure. Take it, Mate, and begone ; and by sunset let 
the good ship Maddelena look small in the offing, like 

a lobster with its legs up. 

[Exit Mate. 

What next? the charter-party. Fifty ducats per 

diem — crew to be found in all things needful, — was 

it so ? — Freightage — demurrage — brokerage — 

Brokerage ! Why Haggai, the ship being thine own, 

and the bargain struck betwixt thee and me, whence 

is the brokerage ? I saw no broker. 

HAGGAI. 

Your worship shall understand. In taking of a ship 

c 



18 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act i. 

on freight, there ever comes betwixt him that owns 
her and him that takes her, that useful and that pro- 
fitable man, a broker. 'Tis the law and the usage. 
Is it not, Sadoc ? Is it not, Shall urn ? 

SADOC. 

The law and the usage. 

SHALLUM. 

Justly the law and usage. 

SILISCO. 

But is that useful profitable man invisible? for I 

saw him not. I dealt not with him. 

i 

HAGGAI. 

Your worship shall understand. Lo ! the times are 
evil, and hardly shall your servant live if he sweat not 
in two callings. Truly I own a ship, and in the way 
of an honest industry I do likewise follow the occupa- 
tion of a broker. 

SILISCO. 

Oh ! I see. Thou wert thyself that profitable man. 

HAGGAI. 

At half the charge that it should have cost you else. 
Was it not, Sadoc ? 



scene n.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 19 

SADOC. 
Yea, and that half halved. 

HAGGAI. 

Was it not, Shallum ? 

SHALLUM. 

Truly, Sir, for a reasonable broker, there is none 
other that I can commend you to but only the worthy 
Haggai. 

SILISCO. 

To make a bargain 'twixt himself and me. What is 
this other ? oh ! the mortgage. Stop. 

HAGGAI. 

His worship calls. 

SADOC. 

Ho ! pen and ink. 

SHALLUM. 

Lo, here ! 

SILISCO. 

If I understand this writing, it pledges, not Villa 
Guastata only, but my other effects whatsoever. 

HAGGAI. 

Villa Guastata ! Woe is me ! I travelled and gat me 
c 2 



20 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act i. 

to the spot. Woe! Woe! Woe! a desolation and a 
hissing ! 

SILISCO. 

Nay, nay, Haggai ; the property is sufficient for the 
charge. But as I have a purpose of payment, I care 
not what effects thou makest answerable. 

[Signs the deed. 
There — have we made an end? 

HAGGAI. 

Of this present business. But there be certain 
lands at Punto Vecchio that bring your worship but 
little profit at present .... 

SILISCO. 

My worthy masters ! Lo ! the times are evil ! 
Surely your servant in more ways than one 
Must use his diligence ; and having spent 
The past hour greatly to my profit here, 
The next I purpose spending in the woods 
Amongst the nightingales. God speed you, Sirs. 

[Exeunt 



scene m.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 21 



SCENE III. 

The Catacombs under the Western Suburb of Palermo. 
Aretina alone. 

ARETINA. 

He loves my singing, but he loves not me. 
How should he ? knowing me so vilely link'd 
With this Spadone. To have fallen was sad, 
But for the love of such a knave as this, 
To fall, was falling doubly ; — not as Eve 
Lur'd by the fruit, but by the Serpent's self. 
Yet is the Serpent not so very wise, 
To think that, having fallen, I am his 
For ever, and must evermore misdeem 
His venom to be nectar. No, could I pierce 
The plot that now he hatches — sure I am 
There's perfidy design'd — the last were this 
That I should see of these detested caves, 
Or of this wretch and his barbarities. 

c 3 



22 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act i. 

Enter Spadone. 

SPADONE. 

According to thy wont — blear-ey'd, I see. What 
hath sprung the leak now ? 

ARETINA. 

Were I to tell thee I should find no pity ; so I may 
keep my counsel. 

SPADONE. 

Pity ! As great a pity to see a woman weep, as to 
see a goose go barefoot. 'Tis their nature. But, hark 
you, my girl ; if gold can make thee merry, thou shalt 
not maunder long. When I come back from 
Rhodes .... 

ARETINA. 

Yes. Shalt thou bring much gold with thee ? 

SPADONE. 

Treasure upon treasure! heap upon heap! Here, 
in this very cave, thou shalt see it ; and what is more, 
thou shalt have it in thy keeping. For when I shall 
have seen it safe with thee, it will be needful I should 
make away for Calabria, and whistle off a month or 
two till I shall see how things be taken. 



scene in.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 23 

ARETINA. 

But whence will this treasure come ? 

SPADONE. 

When the Maddelena shall be seen in the offing, hie 
thee hither. Wait not till she comes into port, for 
that may chance to be a tedious time; and if they 
should tell thee that we have gone to the bottom, heed 
not that ; for thou shalt find me here notwithstanding. 

ARETINA. 

But tell me, whence is the treasure ? 

SPADONE. 

For the gold, it comes out of the bowels of the 
earth. The diamonds were digged up in the further 
Ind. Touching the pearls, thou shalt ask of an 
oyster ; and in respect of the jewels, a toad could tell 
thee somewhat. Hark ! I hear the Mate bellowing 
for me through the caverns like a calf that hath lost 
its dam. Fare thee well ! 

ARETINA. 

Here then we meet when thou returns't. Farewell. 

[Exit Spadone. 
And for the gold thou bringest, whence it comes 

c 4 



24 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act i. 

Thou know'st not better than I know myself. 
It is Silisco's gold. Whither it goes, 
Thou know'st not better — nor so well. In trust 
For him I '11 take it. Falsehood to the false 

Is woman's truth, and fair fidelity. 

[Exit 



SCENE IV. 

The Sea- Shore near Palermo — Silisco and Kug- 
giero. 

SILISCO. 

With what a saucy, blithe, and buxom grace 
She breasts the blushing waters. Fare thee well, 
Thou good ship Maddelena. Welcome home, 
Thou good ship Zita. 

RUGGIERO. 

But the wind that speeds 
That outward bound, baffles this homeward bark. 
She cannot cross the bar ; and what is that ? 
Look there — a boat is pushing from her side 
To bring her charge ashore. 



scene iv.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 25 

SILISCO. 

The richest freight 
That ever Procida produc'd, they say, 
This Countess is — heiress to all the wealth 
Of old Ubaldo. Is she fair beside ? 

RUGGIERO. 

Indeed she is. 

SILISCO. 

As fair as she that comes 
In her fair company ? 

RUGGIERO. 

As Fiordeliza? 
In my allegiance, I must answer, No ; 
Yet each is in her kind supremely fair. 

SILISCO. 

Thou painter, poet, moralist, what not ? 
Show me their pictures — say them, sing them, paint 
them. 

RUGGIERO. 

Painting is perilous when the proof is near ; 
Yet take, to pass the time, some rude essay. 



26 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act i. 

SILISCO. 
First for the island Countess. 

RUGGIERO. 

First for her. 
In the soft fulness of a rounded grace, 
Noble of stature, with an inward life 
Of secret joy sedate, Eosalba stands, 
As seeing and not knowing she is seen, 
Like a majestic child, without a want. 
She speaks not often, but her presence speaks, 
And is itself an eloquence, which withdrawn, 
It seems as though some strain of music ceas'd 
That fill'd till then the palpitating air 
With sweet pulsations. When she speaks indeed, 
'Tis like some one voice eminent in the choir, 
Heard from the midst of many harmonies 
With thrilling singleness, yet clear accord. 
So heard, so seen, she moves upon the earth 
Unknowing that the joy she ministers, 
Is aught but Nature's sunshine. 

SILISCO. 

Call you this 
The picture of a woman or a Saint ? 



scene iv.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 27 

When Cimabue next shall figure forth 
The hierarchies of heaven, we'll give him this 
To copy from. But said you, then, the other 
Was fairer still than this ? 

RUGG1ERO. 

I may have said it ; 
I should have said, she's fairer in my eyes. 
Yet must my eyes be something worse than blind, 
And see the thing that is not, if the hand 
Of Nature was not lavish of delights 
When she was fashion'd. But it were not well 
To blazon her too much ; for mounted thus 
In your esteem, she might not hold her place, 
But fall the farther for the fancied rise. 
For she has faults, Silisco, she has faults ; 
And when you see them you may think them worse 
Than I, who know, or think I know, their scope. 
She gives her moods the mastery, and flush'd 
With quickenings of a wild and wayward wit, 
Flits like a firefly in a tangled wood, 
Restless, capricious, careless, hard to catch, 
Though beautiful to look at. 



28 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act I. 

SILISCO. 

By my faith 
She's a wild growth, to judge her by her fruits, 
For she torments you vilely. Prudent friend, 
Kosalba being what you say, why fix 
Your heart on Fiordeliza ? 

RUGGIERO. 

Wherefore? why? 
When hearts are told by number, weight, and measure, 
I'll render you a reason for my love. 
Till then, I say it was my luck to love her ; 
111 luck or good, I know not yet. For you, 
I would it were your luck to love Rosalba, 
So you might wed her. But the rumour is 
That she is brought from Procida to be given 
To old Count Ugo. 

SILISCO. 

Good old man, he's welcome. 
A simpler hearted creature never liv'd 
To put on spectacles and see the world 
Grow wise and honest, and I wish him joy. 
And I will take example by him too, 



scene iv.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 29 

And marry when I'm seventy ; and till then 
1 11 live as heretofore, and take delight 
In God's creation revell'd in at large, 
And not this work or that. 

RUGGIERO. 

So do ; 'tis best 
So long as it suffices. See how fast 
The light skiff shoots along. A few pulls more 
Shall bring them in. 

SILISCO. 

Now show me which ... oh ! she 
In the red scarf, is Fiordeliza. 

RUGGIERO. 

Yes; 
They know me now and kiss their hands. At first 
You'll think Eosalba fairer. 

SILISCO. 

By my faith 
If what I there behold be flesh and blood, 
Nature can fashion counterfeits of Saints 
More cunningly than you. In Nature's right 
My hasty commendation I recall, 



30 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act i. 

And say your picture was as cold as clay 
.And colour'd from the vapours of the north. 

RUGGIERO. 

Easy your oars, good coxswain ! way enough ! 
A thousand welcomes ! Ladies, if the hearts 
That leap to meet you .... 

SILISCO. 

Make your footing sure ; 
Jump out my lads and steady her .... there .... so. 

[Enter, landing from the boat, Ubaldo, Rosalba, 
and Fiordeliza, with sailors and attendants. 

RUGGIERO. 

Oh my good Lord, the King hath miss'd you much. 

UBALDO. 

Hath he, Sir, truly ? well, he 's kind ; but we 
That will have children, are enforc'd at times, 
Losing the courtiers in the father's office, 
To dance attendance on a chit like this. 
Bring the goods after. Shall we to the palace ? 



scene iv. j THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 31 

FIORDELIZA. 

Kind ocean, fare thee well ! I would that earth 
Demean'd herself no worse. I '11 stamp upon her. 

RUGGIERO. 

What is your quarrel with the earth, fair lady ? 
Are not her titles equal to the ocean's ? 

FIORDELIZA. 

The earth breeds men, Sir, but the ocean fish. 

UBALDO. 

Eosalba, are you lost ? Come on, come on. 

I crave your pardon, Sir, I should have known you ; 

My lord of Malespina, if I err not ; 

In health, I hope, Sir? Ah, Sir! youth and strength — 

We prize them when they 're gone; we prize them then. 

SILISCO. 

I thank you, Sir, I thank you ; I am well ; 
I wish you a good voyage. 

UBALDO. 

God be praised, 
Our voyage, which was very good, is ended. 
This way, child ; are you dreaming ? Sir, sometimes 



32 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act i. 

When duty calls you to the palace, think 
Of the old Chamberlain ; in sooth, my Lord, 
"We shall most gladly greet you. Fare you well. 

[Exeunt all but Silisco. 

silisco. 
I answered like an idiot. So I felt ; 
Doubtless so looked. Can I not lose my heart 
But I must lose my understanding too ? 
Count Ugo ! He's a gallant light and gay 
To what I seemed — a very dullard I, 
If not a dotard. Can a man so change 
In less than fifty years, and be himself 
And yet withal belie the self he was 
An hour — a minute, I might say, before ? 
But we shall meet again — perhaps to-morrow — 
And I'll shake off the stupor of to-day, 
And be my better self. To-morrow ! yes — 
I am not in my nature what I seem'd — 
That all Palermo's tongues will testify — 
And there is that within me springing now 
Shall testify it better. Hope and Joy, 
My younger sisters, you have never yet 



scene iv.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 33 

Been parted from my side beyond the breadth 

Of a slim sunbeam, and you never shall. 

Already it is loosened, it is gone, — 

The cloud, the mist ; across the vale of life 

The rainbow rears its soft triumphal arch, 

And every roving path and brake and bower 

Is bathed in coloured light. Come what come may, 

I know this world is richer than I thought 

By something left to it from paradise ; 

I know this world is brighter. than I thought, 

Having a window into heaven. Henceforth 

Life hath for me a purpose and a drift. 

[Exit. 



34 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act ji. 



ACT II. 

SCENE L 

An Avenue in the Gardens of the Palazzo Malespina. 
In the back scene tents are spread for a fete cham- 
petre. — Conrado and Bruno. 

conrado. 

And all for her ! Well, she's a gracious lady ; 
But there's a measure, master Bruno. 

BRUNO. 

Yea, 
She's a sweet lady, but she's costly, Sir. 
The tournament, the banquet and the masque 
Shall reach a thousand ducats — in one day — 
Gone in one day ! the lands of Malespina 
Are broad and fat ; but all things have an end. 

CONRADO. 

A thousand ducats ! 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 35 

BRUNO. 

Ere yon sun be set. 

CONRADO. 

And shall he win her when his all is spent ? 
True, she is heiress to Count Procida, 
And rich enough to marry one that's poor ; 
But wealth will after kind, — it will, it will. 
Attendance ! here's the King ! 

BRUNO. 

Fall back a space, 

And make a sign to yonder gilded troop 

To sound their cornets. 

\Exeunt 

Enter The King, Silisco, and Ruggiero. 

the king. 
I grudge you not your victory in the tilting ; for 
there were eyes fell with my fall, which I think better 
of than of any that blazed at your triumph. Who 
was she that cried out so piteously ? 

silisco. 

Sir, 'twas the little Lisana, daughter of your Majesty's 

d 2 



36 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act ii. 

Physician, Gerbetto. Ruggiero can tell you more of 
her than I. He frequents her for her singing. 

THE KING. 

A good musician is she ? 

Enter Ubaldo, Rosalba, and Fiordeliza. 

RUGGIERO. 

Sir, she's young, 
Yet I have heard some adepts in her art 
Who pleased me less ; for she is true, yet free, 
Abandoned to her strain, and hath a voice 
That who-so' hears feels for the time no touch 
Of pain or weariness or troubled thought, 
But following in the train of melody, 
To that seductive sequence of sweet sounds 
Tunes his attentive mind. 'Tis wonderful 
What power upon the passionate soul of man 
Resides in that low voice. 

THE KING., 

Well praised at least. 

SILISCO. 

Welcome, fair guests, again. Pass on, I pray. 
The dance awaits you. 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 37 

THE KINO. 

Presently we'll follow. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Well praised indeed ! Indeed I wish her joy. 

[Exeunt Rosalba and Fiordeliza. 

THE KING. 

Ruggiero, if this doctor's daughter sings so well, 

methinks our evening's entertainment should not be 

the worse for her. I pray you bring her hither. 

[Exit Ruggiero. 

My lord of Malespina, attend your guests. We stay 

for a word with the Chamberlain, trusting thereby to 

do you some service. 

[Exit Silisco. 

UBALDO. 

This Marquis, my Lord, hath gifts by nature that 

might be fruitful in your Majesty's service, were he 

well guided ; but as he carries himself, he is but to 

your court like the streamer over yonder pavilion, 

the ornament of a holiday and the plaything of the 

winds ; and were not the intent of this day's doings 

to minister to your Majesty's amusement, I could call 

them most idle. 

d 3 



38 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act ii. 

THE KING. 

They are not for my amusement, I think, but in 
honour of another ; and she, I hope, will regard them 
more favourably. My Lord, this month and more, 
and indeed since first your daughter came to court, it 
has been in my heart to speak with you on her behoof. 
She is, in my poor apprehension, a sweet, gentle, and 
of her years, truly a comely and majestic lady. 

UBALDO. 

Your Majesty is kind; and to speak of her truly, 
the child is of a goodly presence and demeanour, and 
hath a freshness and sweet savour that I know not if 
her father could boast these fifty years. 

THE KING. 

Surely; and looking on her comeliness and youth, 
shall it not touch us with. some careful thoughts as to 
the bestowing of her in marriage. I think, Sir, with 
so much beauty there were no, little danger in the 
mismatching of her. 

UBALDO. 

Most justly noted. Your Majesty hath the like dis- 
cretion in affairs familiar as at the Council Board. 



scene i.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 39 

Yet a blind instinct had supplied me, and I had already 
taken thought for the girl. I think your Majesty 
knows whom I have provided, and that you could wish 
it no other. 

THE KING. 

Indeed, Sir, but I do. Count Ugo is a nobleman of 
surpassing worth and wealth ; but his time of life 
borders on three- score and ten, and the years that he 
has left for her should be but labour and sorrow. 
Besides, the damsel being of so great virtue and dis- 
cretion, the inclination of her own fancies and affec- 
tions should methinks be somewhat regarded. 

UBALDO. 

Your Majesty's admonition is most wise. But you 
shall pardon me for averring that I have needed it 
not. To carry the damsel's inclinations with me, has 
ever been my care, and from her cradle I have bid her 
beware of those green gallants and those hot bloods 
which take a maid to wife as parcel of their revels, 
and lay her by like the napkin that hath wiped their 
beards. I bade her to know that a constancy of kind- 
ness should be found in those of riper years, and she, 

D 4 



40 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act ii. 

being of a wise and prudent spirit, hath ever assented 
and applied herself to the affecting of old men. 

THE KING. 

Hath she indeed ? But either my observation is at 
fault, or her assent extends not to Count Ugo. 

UBALDO. 

The watchfulness of a parent, my Lord, is more than 
discernment ; else should I not presume to say, you 
err. 

THE KING. 

What ! mean you that she is herself w r ishful to marry 
Count Ugo ? 

UBALDO. 

She is, my Lord ; Count Ugo is her choice, 

Her absolute and unalterable choice. 

I could not turn her from him if I would. 

THE KING. 

Now truly this is strange ! You ought to know : 
And yet I could have sworn her looks of love 
Were bent upon another — on Silisco. 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 41 

UBALDO. 

Impossible ! I warned her from the first 

That marry whom she might she could not him. 

His wealth was wondrous once ; but wondrous waste 

Hath scattered it to every wind that blows. 

His lands at Malespina are impledged 

For more than they are worth — a monstrous sum — 

To good Count Ugo. What he hath besides, 

This Jew or that lays claim to. 

THE KING. 

There's a ship 
Expected now from Rhodes, that, as I learn, 
Brings treasure to Silisco of such price 
As amply shall redeem his lands and him. 

UBALDO. 

My Lord, a large remainder of his wealth, 

'Tis true, is coming swiftly o'er the sea 

To gild a summer's day and disappear. 

Lo ! what he squanders even on this day's feast ! 

I crave your pardon, knowing him your friend, 

My gracious Lord ; but were it not a sin 

To force my child aboard this leaky craft, 



42 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act it. 

With every stitch of canvass madly set 
To court the storm ? 

THE KING. 

To force the lady's choice 
Were any way a sin ; but should she yield 
(As, if I miss not of my aim, she will) 
A free consent, I answer for my friend 
That he shall leak no longer, but repair, 
With such small aid as may be mine to give, 
The vessel of his fortunes ; which performed, 
I trust a match so seemly, of a man 
Whom doting Nature constituted heir 
Of all she had, and accident upraised 
To eminence of station, with a maid 
As nobly born, and in her kind and sex 
As excellently gifted, should command 
Your kind approval. 

UBALDO. 

Sire, the maiden's choice 
Is fixed on Ugo, and my faith is pledged. 
But should Silisco liberate his lands 
And settle them in trust, and should the Count 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 43 

Release me, and the child be wrought upon 
To change her purpose, then .... 

THE KING. 

I think, my friend, 
All these conditions you shall find fulfilled 
Ere many days. Well, shall we see the dance ? 

[Exeunt 

Enter Rosalba and Fiordeliza. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Let me alone, I say ; I will not dance. 

ROSALBA. 

Not if Ruggiero ask you ? 

FIORDELIZA. 

He indeed ! 
If the Colossus came from Rhodes and asked me, 
Perhaps I might. 

ROSALBA. 

Come, Fiordeliza, come ; 
I think, if truth were spoken, 'tis not much 
You have against that knight. 



44 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act 11. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Not much, you think ; 
Well, be it much or little 'tis enough. 
He has his faults. 

ROSALBA. 

Kecount me them ; what are they ? 

FIORDELIZA. 

I'll pick you out a few : my wallet : first, 
He's grave; his coming puts a jest to flight 
As winter doth the swallow. 

ROSALBA. 

Something else, 
For this may be a merit; jests are oft 
Or birds of prey or birds of kind unclean. 

FIORDELIZA. 

He's rude ; he's stirring ever with his staff 
A growling great she-bear that he calls Truth. 

ROSALBA. 

The rudeness is no virtue ; but for love 
Of that she-bear, a worser vice might pass. 
A^ain ? 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 45 

FIORDELIZA. 

He's slow, — slow as a tortoise, — once 
He was run over by a funeral. 

ROSALBA. 

He may have failings ; but if these be all, j 
I would that others were as innocent. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Oh, others ! Say then who ? 

ROSALBA. 

Nay, — others, — all. 
I wish that all mankind were innocent. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Thou art a dear well-wisher of mankind, 

And, in a special charity, wishest well 

To that good knight Silisco. What ! dost blush ? 

ROSALBA. 

No ; though you fain would make me. 

FIORDELIZA. 

No ! What's this, 
That with an invisible brush doth paint thee red ? 



46 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act ii. 

Well, I too can be charitable, and wish 
Silisco were less wicked. 

ROSALBA. 

Is he wicked ? 

FIORDELIZA. 

Is waste not wickedness ? and know'st thou not 
The lands of Malespina day by day 
Diminish in his hands ? 

ROSALBA. 

True, waste is sin. 
My mother (and no carking cares had she, 
Nor lov'd the world too much nor the world's goods) 
In many a vigil of her last sick bed, 
Bid me beware of spendthrifts, as of men 
That seeming in their youth not worse than light, 
Would end not so, but with the season change ; 
For time, she said, which makes the serious soft, 
Turns lightness into hardness. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Said she so ? 
But I am light myself. 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 47 

ROSALBA. 

Adversity 
Will sometimes soften what should else be hard ; 
It may please Providence to visit thee 
With some disaster for thy good. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Oh me! 
Pray not for that ! I will be good and grave 
And soft without a bruise. 

ROSALBA. 

Sing a soft song ; 
If you are ever soft 'tis when you sing. 

FIORDELIZA. 

I will. You mean by that, a song of love. 

(Sings.) 
i. 
Love slept upon the lone hill-side 
And dream' d of pleasant days, 
When he with flowers should deck his bride, 
And she deck him with bays. 

ii. 

He rose like day-break, flush' d with joy, 

And went his way to court ; 
But there they took him for a toy, 

And turn'd him into sport. 



48 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act ii. 

hi. 

He hung his head, his dreams were fled, — 

Not here, not here, he cried, 
But I shall find her in my bed 

Upon the lone hill-side. 

Enter Silisco. 

silisco. 

My guests, I think, 
Are tir'd of dancing, and the players wait. 
"What play shall they present ? 

FIORDELIZA. 

A dolorous play ; 
A play to weep at. 

SILISCO. 

Do you love to weep, 
Or in defiance choose a tragedy ? 

FIORDELIZA. 

No, sir ; I choose it but to give me rest 
From laughing. I'm as lazy as the dog 
That lean'd his head against a wall to bark. 
And there are such a sort of men about me 



scene i.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 49 

As keep me running over. Lo now, there ! 

[Ruggiero crosses the back scene, 
leading Lis an a.] 
What comedy can show me aught like that ? 
There is a man whose aspect, you would swear, 
Proclaim'd Queen Nature's warrant and commission 
To preach repentance to a sinful world 
And frighten it, — upon whose brow you read 
Pleasure's " hie jacet." Yet behold his life ! 
His occupation ! Never seen abroad, 
But in his hand some rosy Magdalen, 
That looks as hastening to repeat the sin 
She bloomingly repents. Oh, that is rare, 

And I must see it to an end. Farewell! 

[Exit. 

ROSALBA. 

Stay, Fiordeliza. Nay, then, I must follow. 

SILISCO. 

Not yet, — not yet. From what you said in the dance 

I gather that the Court's calumnious tongues 

Are busy with my name. My life, I know, 

Has heretofore been led in such a sort 

As makes the wise to wonder. Let them gape 

E 



50 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act ii. 

As wide as wisdom may. I know besides 

They charge me with some frailties that I own not ; 

And having of my genuine stock enough, 

I would not you should therein err with them. 

My life has been, though volatile, not gross ; 

For God bestow'd upon me at my birth 

A heart that fill'd the measure of its joys 

From its own fountains, craving nought beside. 

So heretofore it was ; and since that eve 

When, as you landed in the dimpled bay 

From Procida, I help'd you from the boat, 

And touch'd your hand, and as the shallop rock'd, 

Embolden'd by your fears I . . . . pardon me, 

I should not make you to remember more, — 

But since that moment when the frolicsome waves 

Toss'd you towards me, — blessings on their sport! 

I have not felt one kindling of a thought, 

One working of a wish but you were in it ; 

The rising sun that striking thro' the lattice 

Awaken'd me, awaken'd you within me ; 

The darkness closing shut us up together : 

I saw you in the mountains, fields, and woods ; 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 51 

Flowers breath'd your breath, winds chaunted with 

your voice, 
And Nature's beauty cloth'd itself in your's. 
Then think not that my life, though idly led, 
Is tainted or impure or bound to sense ; 
Or if incapable of itself to soar, 
Unworthy to be lifted from the dust 
By love of what is lofty. 

ROSALBA. 

No, my Lord, 
It was not that I heard, nor of that die ; 
Else had the taint remain'd upon the tongue 
That spake. 'Twas but your prudence was impugn'd, 
Nor with unfriendly comment. 

SILISCOe 

* 

I am charg'd, 

As ofttimes it is told me, by the world, 

With reckless waste and wild improvidence. 

What call they prudence ? Money which I waste 

I prize not. If I scatter to the winds 

As often as I launch my caravel 

To take my pleasure on the dancing waves, 

E 2 



52 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act ii. 

A hundred million drops of ocean-spray, 
Who says I waste sea-water ? yet that spray 
Is not more worthless in the world's account 
Than gold in mine. But give me what I prize, 
The living waters from the well of love, 
The hope that, bubbling from my breast, shall feed 
The roots of stately trees and odorous flowers, 
And make my soul prolific, — give me that, 
And you shall know me for a miser. 

ROSALBA. 

Oh! 
Be careful of what love you venture for ; 
For in so much as love is better worth, 
So prudence is more prizeable in love. 
My hand, you know, is promis'd. 

SILISCO. 

Not by you. 

ROSALBA. 

To my dear mother, on the day she died, 

I gave a promise, solemn as a vow, 

That I in all things would obey my father, 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 53 

And specially in the choice of whom to wed. 
You know my father's choice. 

SILISCO. 

It cannot be ; 
He shall not link you to a living death ; 
The world, which is his idol, would revolt 
From such an immolation ; good men would blush, 
And wicked men deride, and all cry shame 
On the hard father and preposterous spouse. 

ROSALBA. 

My Lord of Malespina, I am young, 
And know not how to answer words like these. 
But they offend me. I have heard it said 
No spendthrift ever yet was generous ; 
I hope it is not true. But bear in mind 
That my good father hath a father's rights, 
And I a daughter's duties. Think besides, 
Count Ugo hath not injur'd you — nay more, 
'Tis said that through a long and innocent life 
He never injur'd any. For myself, 
Although a coffin were my nuptial bed, 
The promise to my sainted mother made 
Should not be unfulfilFd. 

e 3 



54 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act n. 

SILISCO. 

I stand reprov'd. 
Pardon my ill behaviour : I am rude, 
Unjust,, ungenerous, by passion, Lady, 
By nature not. One boon alone I beg. 
I look not on you as on one betroth'd. 
The King befriends me, and Count Ugo's will 
Devoutly loyal answers to the King's 
In all things. At a word he yields you up. 
Your father is of sterner metal made ; 
But though I rival not the Count in wealth, 
Not many rival me, and thus the King 
Will want not power with him too to prevail. 
I therefore hold you as absolv'd and free. 
Now were you truly in your own sight so, 
And should I ask you then, — not for your love, 
But for your leave to love you, what reply 
Should greet me ? 

ROSALBA. 

Counting on my father's change s 
You are, I fear, too sanguine. 



scene i.] THE VIKGIN WIDOW. 55 

SILISCO. 

Do you fear? 
That is a fear at which a thousand hopes 
Start into life and swarm about my heart. 
Recoil not, nor be frighted at the fire 
One spark hath kindl'd — quench it not — oh leave 
The beauteous element to mount and soar, 
Though it should bear destruction on its wings ; 
For in the vast dark hollow of this world, 
Whate'er of earthly affluence it devours, 
It ^ghts the heavens that else were but half seen. 
You wish my suit to prosper, — give it room,— 
Grant me at least till All- Saint s'-Eve to bend 
Your father's iron will. 

ROSALBA. 

That is not much ; 
Freely I grant you that. 

SILISCO. 

But plight your faith 
That neither force, persuasion, nor the moods 
Of changeful will that oft in woman's youth 
Betray resolve, nor yet the masking voice 

E 4 



56 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act ii. 

So plausible, of filial duty, found 
In duty's self-destruction, shall prevail 
To bind you to another till the term 
Now granted shall expire. 

ROSALBA. 

That I am proof 
Against some pressures which are said to strain 
A woman's purpose from its constancy, 
I show, methinks, not doubtfully in this, — 
That granting you thus much I grant no more. 
That little which I promise, judge from this 
If I shall faithfully perform. 

Enter Bruno. 

BRUNO. 

My Lord, 
I pray you pardon me ; the Chamberlain 
Calls for his daughter to attend him home, 
As now the dews are falling. 

ROSALBA. 

Say I come. 
I hope not with a fearless hope like yours ; 



scene i.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 57 

But yet believe me, Sir, the hope I have, 
If wreck'd, would bring a ruin on my heart 
It hardly could sustain. I say too much : 
And yet it seems too little. Fare you well. 

SILISCO. 

Look ! where in yonder haven near the moon 

Glitters the star they call the star of love. 

A Spirit hath his dwelling in that star, 

Whence emanating he on earth alights 

Sometimes, but only in earth's happiest hours, 

And ranging then earth's happiest regions through, 

He seeks, and, bee-like, rifles of their sweets 

The bosoms that are fullest of true love, 

And so with rapture satiate reascends. 

That Spirit to that star did never take 

Of truer love an ampler treasure home 

Than you, if you should seek, would find in me. 

Farewell, belov'd Eosalba. 

ROSALBA. 

Fare you well. 
Judge of me gently. Love me if you may. 

[Exit. 



58 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act ii. 

bruno (who had retired to the back scene, and now 

advances). 
That the dew was falling was God's truth ; that the 
lady was sent for was Man's invention. 

SILISCO. 

How so ? If it was thy invention, thy gift that way 
was never more unseasonably exercised. 

BRUNO. 

Hear me ere you pronounce. I had that to speak 
which I think you would not that she should hear. 
The Maddelena hath been seen and is seen no more. 
Some say she was seen to sink. 

SILISCO. 

Thou say'st not so ? Then I sink too. But it can- 
not be. There hath been neither storm nor mist nor 
aught that could bring her to danger. 

BRUNO. 

She was clearly seen, and now she is lost to sight ; 
so much is certain. 

SILISCO. 

Why 'tis the sun hath sunk and not the ship. 
Broad daylight show'd what twilight cannot. Go, 



scene I.] THE VIEGIN WIDOW. 59 

Entreat my guests to pardon me awhile ; 
The most are gone ; I'll to the beach and see. 

[Exit 

BRUNO. 

There is a certain scum of them left which I shall 
know how to scatter. Had it not been for such locusts 
and caterpillars as these, the lands of Malespina 
had not now been coming by sea from Rhodes. 

[Exit. 

Enter Haggai and Sadoc meeting. 

HAGGAI. 

Hast thou found him ? 

SADOC. 

My Lord of Malespina ? No. 

HAGGAI. 

They told me we should find him here. In two 
hours more the good ship shall be at the quay. Where 
is Shallum? 

SADOC. 

He is on the watch-tower of the west gate, looking 
out upon the sea. No, he comes hither. 



60 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act n. 

HAGGAI. 

Yea, this is he, — but his hands are tossed up and 
his garment is rent. Hath aught happened to the 
ship? 

Enter Shallum. 

SHALL UM. 

Come ye to the beach ; — the ship and the treasure, 
my soul is troubled for the ship and treasure. 

HAGGAI. 

Nay, she cometh into port. 

SHALLUM. 

I beheld her from the watch-tower at eleven of the 
clock and until six ; but she vanished and was no more 
seen, and my bowels yearn for her lest that she be 
lost, and the jewels and the ingots and the much trea- 
sures. But come ye to the beach. 

HAGGAI. 

Alas ! alas ! my brother Shallum, I will come with 

thee to the beach. But go thou, Sadoc, and sue out 

writs against my Lord of Malespina. By Aaron's rod 

his body shall be bail. 

[Exeunt. 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 61 

Enter the Manager and the Three Players. 

first flayer. 

What's ordered for to-night ? 

manager. 
Nothing's ordered. Every thing's forgotten. The 
great actors are playing their parts at court, and we 
the small must shift for ourselves. Yet they'll expect 
a play when the night comes, and it behoves us to 
choose what it shall be. What say ye, one and all ? 

SECOND PLAYER. 

Tell them over, as many as we are primed with. 

MANAGER. 

First, here is " Sorrow's Sum Total ! " 

FIRST PLAYER. 

Ah ! that is a sweet play. It was written by a gen- 
tleman that was very loving and melancholy, and 
knew nothing but to sit by himself all day long weep- 
ing and making verses. But the play is too mournful 
for the Marquis : we'll not play that. 

MANAGER. 

Here is " Sursum Corda, or Down with the Dumps." 



62 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act II. 

FIRST PLAYER. 

The author of that was a great philosopher, and 
wrote an excellent treatise on polities, besides sundry 
tales, chazas, ballads and chansons. The Count of 
Arona was greatly pleased with him, and said that his 
systems had the charm of novelty, and his jests the 
sanction of long usage. 

THIRD PLAYER. 

I remember him well. He tossed his heart a 
thought too high, and it was killed by the fall. He 
died of drinking, poor gentleman ; and therefore we 
will not act his play, inasmuch as, being dead, he 
will not make us the customary compliment. 

MANAGER. 

Here is " Time's Tympany ? " 

FIRST PLAYER. 

'Tis too big. 

MANAGER. 

" Cupid's Wet Nurse ? " 

FIRST PLAYER. 

'Tis pretty, but not passionate. 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 63 

MANAGER. 

" Love's Outgoings ? " 

FIRST PLAYER. 

No. 

MANAGER. 

" Lust's Leavings ? " 

FIRST PLAYER. 

The story hath a good moral, but sleeps in it as in 
a feather-bed. 

MANAGER. 

Then there is but one more, — ci "Woman half pleased, 
and Satan satisfied." 

FIRST PLAYER. 

'Tis easy choosing when nothing's left. That shall 
suffice for fault of a better. It hath matter in it and 
an outgrowth and consequence in the story. 

MANAGER. 

And for the casting .... 

Enter Bruno. 

BRUNO. 

Away, ye knaves and minions, get ye gone ! 
You've eaten all, ye saints of belly worship ! 



64 THE VIRGIN WIDOW, [act ii. 

Ye gilded, painted, mimicries of men, 
Ye butterflies by night, and bats by day ! 
Hence with your belly-gods ! 

MANAGER. 

How now ! how now ! 

BRUNO. 

How now ? Dost dare to say " how now " to me ! 
Thou urchin-snouted, trencher-pated rogue ! 
Where are thy manners and thy moderation, 
To say "how now" to me ? My noble Lord 
Is lost, undone ! 

FIRST PLAYER. 

My Lord of Malespina ? 

BRUNO. 

Yes he, thou trivial tripper up of virtue, 

Thou seven-times whipped and ne'er corrected rogue, 

Thou inadvertency of Nature, he. 

No need for peering at me o'er thy paunch ; 

I tell thee he is beggared and undone ; 

The Maddelena with the rich remains 

Of all he had, is in the offing wrecked. 



scene ii.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 65 

SECOND PLAYER. 

We have not done it, Sir ; revile not us. 

BRUNO. 

Away, ye rotten-hearted, rancid knaves ! 
It was a wind that smelling you in the port 
Made violent recoil. Hence, hogs, begone ! 
Play me no plays. Your trough is empty. Scud. 

[Exit, driving them out. 



SCENE II. 



The Sea-shore — Mate and Boatswain of the 
Maddelena. 

mate. 
Bah ! we did but what three rats would have done if 
it had pleased Providence. With what we got we 
may have absolutions for the skuttling of twenty such 
ships, — or of forty if the owners be Jews. Spadone 
makes small haste to return. Surely he has had time 
ten times told to hide the booty. 

F 



66 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act ii. 

BOATSWAIN. 

Hearest thou ? The watch is cried at the city gates. 

MATE. 

How long are we to wait ? If thou knowest the 
ways of the Catacombs, hie thee and fetch him off; for 
else Aretina will hold him half the night. 

BOATSWAIN. 

I know them not. But with that yell in his ears 
which followed us when we left the ship, it can hardly 
be woman's dalliance that withholds him. More likely 
she hath played him false. 

MATE. 

Then are we much in jeopardy. Lo ! who comes 
here ? By his gait and carriage it is the Marquis's 
fast friend my Lord of Arona. Push off, push off! 
Spadone must take his fate. 

[ They betake themselves to their 
boat and put to sea. 

Enter Ruggiero. 

RUGGIERO. 

Truly Silisco seems to have vanished as his ship 
vanished ; in a moment and without a warning. Not 



scene n.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW* 67 

though, like the ship, without cause that may be con- 
jectured ; for assuredly there will be writs out against 
him when the news is known. He has conveyed him- 
self doubtless to some safe hiding-place. What is 
that ? a shock of seaweed or a head of hair ? By 
Heaven, it is a man that wrestles with the surf. 
Courage, my friend ! hold up thy head but an instant 
more and I am with thee. 

[Plunges into the surf, and brings out 
of it a sailor who ivas sinking. 
Why, cheer thee up ? thou hast had a tustle for thy 
life, but thou hast it and art none the worse I think, 
for thy colour comes again. What ! thou art doubtless 
a waif from the wreck of the Maddelena. But silence ! 
I trouble thy devotions. 

SAILOR. 

Next to God, Sir, I give thanks to you; for under 
God it is to you that I owe my life, Strong swim- 
ming stood me in stead for two long hours, but then 
my strength was nigh spent, and the surf should have 
mastered me but for your help. I thank God for my 
life, and I thank God that all men are not the mer- 
f 2 



68 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act ii. 

ciless villains that some are ; for the villany that put 
nie in this peril might have made me think mankind 
given over to the Devil, but for the charity that 
plucked me out of it. 

RUGGIERO. 

Villany ! Why was it not the elements ? 

SAILOR. 

The elements were guiltless. The wreck was a wreck 
of man's making, and of the Devil's setting on ; and 
the captain, the mate, and the boatswain were the in- 
struments. They scuttled the ship and made off in a 
boat with the treasure. 

RUGGIERO. 

Aye, verily did they ? And I saw but now two men 
that fled at my approach as though the cry of blood 
were behind, and betook them to their boat. 

SAILOR. 

They should be three. But had they peaked beavers 
such as are worn at Rhodes ? 

RUGGIERO. 

They had, and doubtless they are full in flight with 
their booty. Now if, as thou say 'st, thou owest thy 



scene in.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 69 

peril to them and thy life to me, commit thyself with 
me to the craft that is tethered in yonder cove, and 
we will give chase to them. 

SAILOR. 

I am yours, Sir, for any service you shall command ; 
and you could not put me to one more welcome. 
What course did they steer ? 

RUGGIERO. 

As if making for the coast of Calabria. We shall have 
them in sight and to leeward round yonder point. 

[Exeunt, 



SCENE III. 
The Catacombs — Spadone and Aretina. 

SPADONE. 

Silence ! I did not come to thee for shrift. 
Say one or fifty sent to feed the sharks, 
What matters it ? Of such a miscreant tribe 
Each by the other would have done the like^ 
f 3 



70 THE VIKGIN WIDOW. [act n. 

But that they lack'd the courage and the scope 
To rise above some petty piracy. 
Truly to see the gallant ship go down 
Went to my heart — she was a goodly craft ! 
But for the crew, I 'd drown them twice a-day 
And think no pity on 't, more than to drown 
A litter of blind puppies. Fare thee well ! 
Remember that to him who brings thee this 

[Showing a ring. 
Thou shalt disclose the treasure — to none else. 
And thou shalt send me tidings, too, by him 
Of what is said in Sicily. Farewell. 

[Exit. 

ARETINA. 

O monstrous crime ! Euthless, remorseless wretch ! 

And so besotted as to think my love 

Would hold thro' all! A- gurgling, sobbing sound 

Is in my ears, — a booming overhead ! 

My blood runs cold. Oh ! I shall faint ! and here ! 

And should the light go out .... I hear a step .... 

{Enter Silisco.) 
Who 's there ! Who are you ? 

[ Utters a sharp cry. 



scene in.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 71 

SILISCO. 

Nay, but who art thou ? 
I swear 'tis Aretina — cold as stone ! 
What dost thou here? nay, courage — come, look up; 
A friendly arm is round thee — know'st not me? 

ARETINA. 

Oh yes, my Lord, I know you, — sent by Heaven — 
For I have that to tell you .... 

Spadone (who had re-entered unobserved and stabs 
her from behind.) 

Which thy throat 
Shall utter through a bloody new-made mouth. 

[Aretina shrieks and flies. 
And now, my Lord, for you! 

SILISCO. 

A woman's blood, 
Dastard ! is all that thou shalt shed to-day. 

[ They fight. Spadone falls. 
Slain is he? No, I think not — but he swoons. 
Where's that unhappy girl ? Fled forth the caves ? 
Well doth this caitiff merit to be left 
To meet his fate. But should he wake to life 

F 4 



72 THE VIRGIN WIDOW, [act ii. sc. hi. 

And find himself in darkness left to die 
Unshriven and unassoil'd ! Most horrible ! 
Gerbetto's house is on the beach hard by ; 
I'll take him there : the worthy doctor's skill 
May call him from his trance, and he may thus 
Eepent and live, or be absolv'd and die. 

\_Exit, bearing out Spadone. 



act m. sc. I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 73 



ACT III. 

SCENE I. 

Gardens of Ubaldo's Palace — Rosalba and Fior- 
deliza. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Rosalba, nay Eosalba. 

rosalba. 
Am I not patient ? 

FIORDELIZA. 

Well, I think you are : but I would have you cheer- 
ful. Look at me. Has not my lover vanished too ? 

ROSALBA. 

True, Fiordeliza ; sorrow is wont to be vilely selfish, 
and I am forgetting your trouble in mine own. Yet if 
I were not driven to marry another, methinks I also 
could be cheerful. 



74 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act hi. 

FIORDELIZA. 

I will pity you for the driving ; but you shall not 
pity me for the vanishing. I tell you that that sun- 
shine and these flowers are more to me than love. 
They make me happy. 

ROSALBA. 

If that were so, your happiness should be but the 
happiness of a butterfly, and should last but a sum- 
mer's season. I think it is not so ; but be it or be it 
not, you are so bright a thing in mine eyes that I 
cannot desire you to be other than you are. 

FIORDELIZA. 

I am not a butterfly. But I wish in my heart that 
we were like the birds, which are in love only once 
a-year. I will sing you a song, and shall not that do 
you good ? 

( Sings.) 

i. 

Oh had I the wings of a dove, 

Soon would I fly away, 
And never more think of my love, 

Or not for a year and a day : 

If I had the wings of a dove. 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 75 

II. 

I would press the air to my breast, 

I would love the changeful sky, 
In the murmuring leaves I would set up my rest, 

And bid the world good bye : 

If I had the wings of a dove. 

ROSALBA. 

It is a new song I think, but in an old sense, and one 
that will live as long as the world lives, unless the 
world should live to be better than it is. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Yes, or than it ever has been since the birds sang to 
Adam in the golden prime. They sang to him out of 
the tree of life, and knew better than to build their 
nests in the tree of the knowledge of good and evil ; 
and though death comes to them, it comes unknown, 
and though love leaves them, they sigh not. 

KOSALBA. 

Is yon my father ? Alas ! I fear the very sight of 
him now. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Were I a nursing mother I should fear it, lest it should 
sour my milk. 



76 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act hi. 

ROSALBA. 

He is always in the same story — that Silisco never 
will be seen again, and that Count Ugo cannot wait. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Well, as to the story, there is this truth in it, — that 
the rich Silisco will not be seen, and that Ugo will 
never again be as young as he is now. Indeed your 
father may have some cause to fear lest his purpose to 
marry be crossed by that hasty humour which happens 
to men at his time of life, of going to the grave at one 
jump. 

ROSALBA. 

Fie ! Fiordeliza ; it makes me sad, not merry, to 
hear you talk so lightly. Count Ugo, though he hath 
not, nor has had, the gifts and faculties which you set 
store by, was ever a just, courteous, and bountiful 
man, of good life and conversation, with a gentle and 
generous heart, and peradventure as much under- 
standing as innocence has occasion for. 

4 

FIORDELIZA. 

Oh ! I grant him that ; but nevertheless the good 
old golden pippin is ripe, and may drop while the gar- 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 77 

dener is getting the ladder. There is the gardener, — 
and who besides ? Gerbetto, the doctor, I think. 
They are deep in council, and are going to take an- 
other turn ; so let me sing another song the while. 

{Sings.) 

i. 

The last year's leaf, its time is brief 

Upon the beechen spray ; 
The green bud springs, the young bird sings, 
Old leaf, make room for May : 
Begone, fly away, 
Make room for May. 

ii. 

Oh, green bud smile on me awhile, 

Oh, young bird let me stay — 
What joy have we, old leaf, in thee ? 
Make room, make room for May : 
Begone, fly away, 
Make room for May. 

Enter Ubaldo and Gerbetto. 

ubaldo. 
I bring you, daughter, a kind friend and a skilful 
physician, who can cure, I think, more maladies than 



78 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act hi. 

are mentioned in Hippocrates or Galen ; and he would 
have a few words with you, — a few words with you, 
good lady, a few. 

ROSALBA. 

Master Gerbetto is a good friend to me, and ever 
welcome ; and though I have given him but little 
opportunity for the exercise of his art, yet I have 
many times found comfort in his kindness. 

GERBETTO. 

Indeed, sweet lady, I would fain be comfortable to 
you if I might. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Well, if you may not, at least show us a less dis- 
comfortable countenance ; for with that you have on 
now, you look more like adversity itself than a conso- 
lation in adversity. • 

UBALDO. 

He brings, though not a comfort, yet a cure ; 
A cure for blindness and besotted dreams ; 
A cure for feminine credulity. 
This swain, enamour'd as he seem'd of you, 
Was all the while enamour'd of another ; 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 79 

And by that guilty passion's power impell'd 
To deeper guilt, he stain'd his hands in blood, 
And stands accountant for a rival's death. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Nay, sweet Rosalba, keep your courage yet ; 
This cannot be believ'd. Reach her yon seat. 
Silisco never was impeach'd before 
Of dissolute courses. 

ROSALBA. 

And he said himself, 
His life, or ever it had found its law 
From love and me, had still been pure. 

UBALDO. 

Oh dupe ! 
He told you, he ! No doubt of it he did ; 
An unthrift was a liar from all time ; 
Never was debtor that was not deceiver. 
Hold up thy head, poor child ; poor monkey, nay, 
'Tis a brief anguish that discards the vile, 
The false, the faithless. Doctor, tell your tale. 

GERBETTO. 

Tis a sad task, that tale to tell, for me ; 



80 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act hi. 

But I am bound to speak. Two months ago, — 

That day it was the marquis disappear'd, — 

Coming from vespers, in my house I found 

A wounded man, swooning from loss of blood. 

With sedulous care and what small skill is mine 

I tended him, though deeming from the first 

His hurt was mortal. Slowly day by day 

He languish'd and declin'd, till yesternight, 

Knowing his hour was come, he bade me hear 

What brought him to that pass ; which till that hour, 

Wherefore I know not, he was loth to tell. 

He said that in the caverns near the beach, 

Not far from my abode, the self- same night 

That I first found him wounded on the floor, 

A damsel that affianc'd was to him, 

By him was caught in passages of love 

With a young lordling of the court ; they fought ; 

He fell ; and instantaneously bereft 

Of sense, he knew no more, nor by what means 

He reach'd my house. I ask'd him did he know 

Who slew him ; he replied, he knew him well, 

The Lord of Malespina ; at that word 

He bounded from his bed, fell back, and died. 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 81 

ROSALBA. 

Alas! alas! 

UBALDO. 

Here is a terrible tale ! 
And this is he that would have wed my daughter ! 
I thank him that he puts me forth his foot, 
And shows the cleft on't. Truly, yes, I thank him. 
Now, daughter, I beseech you, prate no more 
Of promises, and questions, and delays. 
What day you please next week ! 'Tis yours to 
choose. 

ROSALBA. 

Oh, father, father, give me time to think ; 
My brain is weak ; I cannot understand 
What's said to me, nor what I say myself. 
Ere long this dimness will be clear'd away, 
And I shall know my course ; but, father, now 
The waters have gone over me. 

UBALDO. 

Nay, nay, 
So long as thou rt unsettled, mutinous thoughts 
Will vex thy heart ; I know the ways of women ; 

G 



82 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act vol 

But when what should be, must, contentment comes. 

Compassion goes to work the shortest way ; 

Despatch is mercy : yet yourself shall choose ; 

Say Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, which you will ; 

Thursday or — no, not Friday — at your pleasure, 

Thursday or Saturday. Go, go your ways. 

Order whate'er shall please you ; a brave day 

Well make on't. Get you gone. Good cause had he 

To fly the Court ! The truculent villain ! Ho ! 

[Exeunt, 



SCENE II. 



A Farmstead on the Lands of Malespina, in the 
Neighbourhood of the Castle. 

Enter Silisco and Kuggiero. 

RUGGIERO. 

We chased them that night and the next day, 
gaining on them by little and little ; but as evening 
fell, there came into the horizon a cloud no bigger 
than your hand, and in an instant the storm swooped 



scene n.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 83 

upon them like a bird of prey, and they went to 
destruction before our eyes, thief and booty together. 

SILISCO. 

Best friend and boldest, how fared you, I pray ? 

RUGGIERO. 

The storm spared us, but we were sorely tormented 
by hunger and thirst that night ; and when we landed 
next morning at Vetri, in Calabria, my strength was 
clean spent, and a fever was upon me that laid me low 
for many a day. When that left me, I found my way 
back with all speed, and learning from Monna the 
direction of your flight, I sped hither. Such is my 
history. 

SILISCO. 

Of mine remains 
But little to recount. Spadone, or, 
If he was dead, Spadone's corpse, I left 
In old Gerbetto's cottage on the beach ; 
Nor waiting his return (for he was forth), 
Back to the Catacombs I sped, and search'd 
Each cranny, but could nowhere find my friend, 
The luckless Aretina. In the caves 

Q 2 



84 THE VIRGIN WIDOW, [act hi. 

I dwelt by day. The night I chiefly spent 
In my own gardens. 

RUGGIERO. 

In your gardens ? 



SILISCO. 

Yes; 
Behind the statue of Proserpina 
There is a cavern fring'd with pensile plants, 
By which, well-known to me in boyhood, opes 
A passage to the Catacombs. Thro' this, 
When first I heard that writs were out against me, 
I, like a land-crab, into the earth had dropp'd, 
And afterwards thro' this I issued thence 
When darkness and the owls possess'd the world. 
Ere long, impatient of my dreary life, 
I meditated flight ; and strange you '11 -deem 
The choice I made of whither to betake me. 
But having not since childhood seen my lands, 
. A humour seiz'd me to revisit them ; 
And seeing I was here as little known 
As elsewhere I could be, and peradventure 
Should be less look'd for, hither did I come. 






scene ii.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 85 

I found Count Ugo's people in possession, 
The sometime mortgagee, the owner now. 

RUGGIERO. 

Why hither? it can bring you little joy 
To look upon the lands that you have lost. 

SILISCO. 

To look upon the days that I have lost, 
Ruggiero, brings me less ; and here I thought 
To get behind them ; for my childhood here 
Lies round me. But it may not be. By Heavens ! 
That very childhood bitterly upbraids 
The manhood vain that did but travesty, 
With empty and unseasonable mirth, 
Its joys and lightness. From each brake and bower 
Where thoughtless sports had lawful time and place, 
The manly child rebukes the childish man ; 
And more reproof and bitterer do I read 
In many a peasant's face, whose leaden looks 
My host the farmer construes to my shame. 
Injustice, rural tyranny, more dark 
Than that of courts, have laid their brutal hands 
On those that claim'd my tendance. Want and vice 

g 3 



86 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act hi. 

And injury and outrage fill'd my lands, 
Whilst I, who saw it not, my substance threw 
To feed the fraudulent and tempt the weak. 
Ruggiero, with what glittering words soe'er 
We smear the selfishness of waste, and count 
Our careless tossings bounties, this is sure, 
Man sinks not by a more unmanly vice 
Than is that vice of prodigality — 
Man finds not more dishonour than in debt. 

RUGGIERO. 

Farewell my function ! I perceive that now 

You need no more a monitor. To me, 

Who, when the past was present, sigh'd to see it, 

The present brings its joy. One work is wrought ; 

Adversity hath borne its best of fruits ; 

And, issuing from this gorge, the tract you tread, 

Though it be ne'er so beggarly and shorn, 

Shall lie, I augur, in the sunshine. 

SILISCO. 

No; 
Not in the sunshine ; that may never be ; 
Upon my path the sun shall shine no more. 






scene il] the virgin widow. 87 

It is not poverty will darken it — 

In many another point I erred, but not 

In deeming wealth to me was little worth ; 

Nor self-reproach — for this, though sharp, will work 

Its own purgation ; nor the world's contempt, 

Which with a light and friendly disregard 

I soon could conquer. But one hope there was 

That in the darkness and the frosty air 

Burnt brighter still and brighter, which is now 

Set, not to rise again. In this I own 

Needful severity ; for this apart 

My joyfulness of nature had escaped 

The hands of justice, and all worldly ills 

Had left me unchastised. 

BUGGIERO. 

Rosalba false ! 

SILISCO. 

No, say not so — she means not to be false. 
No — falseness could no more have place in her 
Than could the cankerworm in Paradise. 
She promis'd, it is true, till All- Saints-Eve 
To hold herself in freedom unbetroth'd ; 

g 4 



88 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act III; 

'Tis likewise true, or publicly proclaim'd, 

Count Ugo is to marry her to-morrow. 

But doubtless she has deem'd herself releas'd 

By my desertion. Since that fatal night 

She knows of me no more than that I vanish'd ; 

For how could I, a beggar, plead to her, 

An heiress, her past promise ? With what aim ? 

Since should she wait the term, the issue still 

Must be obedience to her sire's behest. 

And what can now move him ? 

RUGGIERO. 

I know not what. 
But what we know not of may haply be. 
And this I know, — what rules the true of heart 
Is plighted faith, not circumstance. To morrow ? 
I think it may be done — Ronzino's legs 
Will carry me if legs of mortal steed 
Can span the distance in the time — and so 
My presence and my protest shall precede 
This woeful wedding. — Yes, ere noon to-morrow, 
Before Rosalba face to face I '11 stand, 
And, be it at the altar's foot, oppose 



scene Hi.] THE VIKGIN WIDOW. 89 

Her prior promise to her marriage vow. 
Leandro, ho ! my horse. 

SILISCO. 

At least there's truth 
In friendship. But be gentle to Rosalba. 

[Exeunt. 



SCENE III. 

A Street in Palermo. — A Festal Procession is seen 
issuing from the Church in the distance and ad- 
vancing. 

Enter a Chorus of Maidens tvith baskets of flowers, 
followed by a Chorus of Youths, and Tribolo, the 
King's Fool. 

chorus of maidens. 

Who shall lack a lover ? Lo ! 

She held a hundred in her chains ; 
They must break them now and go 

Where new loves shall pay their pains. 



90 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act hi. 

But who shall hail 
Their cast-off faces pale ? 
Who yield her charms 
To their dejected eyes and nerveless arms ? 
Not I, nor I, 

ISTor none of us ; 
And should they try, 
We'd pelt them thus. 

\_Flinging flowers at the other chorus. 

TRIBOLO. 

Well said, Virgins ! Look at me if you would see a 
colour; — and there's an arm for you ! " Let me alone, 
villain, I cannot draw my breath," said the she-rhino- 
ceros when I put it round her waist. But is there 
no answer ? 

CHORUS OP YOUTHS. 

We bent the knee before her, 
With a worship nigh to sin, 
Predestin'd to adore her, 
Without a hope to win. 

But having known the dear delight 
Of living in her sunny sight, 
'Twere vain 
That we should strain 
Against the pressure of that golden chain ; 



scene in.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 91 

For we are prisoners in Despair's despite : 
And as for trying what our eyes could do, 
Or what our arms, with you, 

We could not, scornful maidens, if we might. 

TRIBOLO. 

Hapless Bachelors ! But I like you well ; for 
though you counterfeit a lovesickness, yet you are 
clad in all the colours of the rainbow, and you sing 
like peacocks. Come along ! You must perform this 
at the Palace. Come, musical maidens and men of 
many colours. Sing in time and you shall be re- 
warded in eternity, — not to mention a puncheon of 
strong ale which stands abroach for you at the but- 
tery. 

[Exeunt. 

Enter Ruggiero with an Innkeeper. 

RUGGIERO. 

Brought fairly to the ground ! I prithee give the 

poor beast a can of wine, and when his courage shall 

come back, take him to the stable of the Palazzo 

Arona. Do thy best for him, and take this for thy 

pains. 

[Exit Innkeeper. 



92 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act hi. 

Poor Ronzino! thou sufferest for the sins of others. 
What festal troop is this ? Ha ! my mind misgives 
me ! 

[ The 'procession crosses the stage ; two citizens 

detach themselves from it, and stand beside 

Ruggiero. 

FIRST CITIZEN. 

Enough of this ! I '11 follow no further. Foh ! 'Tis 
a filthy crowd ! 

SECOND CITIZEN. 

The sun is hot, and the garlick, which yesterday 
was like a flower of the field, is to-day the least of a 
little unsavoury. At night there is to be a masked 
ball at the Palace, in honour of the wedding. 

FIRST CITIZEN. 

If I were a nobleman, and bidden, I would not dance 
at it. 

SECOND CITIZEN. 

Why so ? 

FIRST CITIZEN. 

It is such a wedding as no man that dances with 
consideration would dance at. 



scene ill.] THE YIEGIN WIDOW. 93 

SECOND CITIZEN. 

Wherefore? It is magnificently managed, and no 
cost spared. 

FIRST CITIZEN. 

It is a wicked wedding. The bride is the sweetest 
incomparable lady that ever the sun shined upon, and 
the bridegroom 

SECOND CITIZEN. 

Well? 

FIKST CITIZEN. 

Is a pink-headed, white-haired old gentleman ; very 
corpulent ; with one foot in the grave and the other 
in a velvet shoe. Did you mark him as he stood at 
the altar, leaning upon his staff? He was three 
minutes groping in his pouch for the ring, and at last 
he fished up — what? a pair of spectacles ! 

SECOND CITIZEN. 

He is a simple-hearted, kindly gentleman — meek 
and mild — but, as you say, very old, and not strong 
in the legs. Let us to the royal gardens, and make 
sure of places to see the fireworks. 



94 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act hi. 

RTJGGIERO. 

What marriage is it that you speak of, friends ? 
Count Ugo's ? 

FIRST CITIZEN. 

Yes. 

RTJGGIERO. 

And did ye say the King 
Gives a masked ball to-night ? 

SECOND CITIZEN. 

Sir, so we hear. 

[Exeunt Citizens. 

RtTGGIERO* 

Too late— too late ! Yet shall the truth be heard! 
Though what is irremediable be done, 
Let what is just be spoken. To that ball 
Shall come a dreary and unwelcome guest. 

[Exit. 






scene IV.] THE VIKGIN WIDOW. 95 

SCENE IV. 

An Antechamber with folding doors, opening upon a 
Ball-Boom in the Royal Palace at Palermo. — The 
King, masked as a Knight of St. John; and Lis ana, 
as a Minstrel. 

THE KING, 

Young minstrel, had thy ditty been less sweet 
I should have bid thee sing me one less sad ; 
But thou hast so subdued me to thy strain, 
I crave another like it. 

LISANA. 

Sooth, my Lord, 
It is but such that I can sing ; I 'm young, 
Untaught, and have but a few natural notes : 
. I sing but as the birds do, from my heart. 

THE KING. 

Well, sing from that again. Thy voice awakes 
A tenderness that might be troublesome, 
And shame to show itself by day ; but tears 
That come at twilight like a summer dew, 
May trickle unrestrained. Sing once again. 



96 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act m. 

lisana sings. 

I. 

The morning broke, and Spring was there, 
And lusty Summer near her birth ; 

The birds awoke and wak'd the air, 
The flow'rs awoke and wak'd the earth. 

ii. 

Up ! quoth he, what joy for me 

On dewy plain, in budding brake ! 
A sweet bird sings on every tree, 

And flowers are sweeter for my sake. 

in. 

Lightly o'er the plain he stept, 

Lightly brush'd he through the wood, 

And snar'd a little bird that slept, 

And had not waken' d when she should. 

IV. 

Lightly through the wood he brush'd, 

Lightly stept he o'er the plain, 
And yet — a little flow'r was crush'd 

That never rais'd its head again. 

THE KING. 

That voice had won me were I blind ; that face, 
Though I were deaf, had spoken to my heart ! 



scene iv.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 97 

I am asham'd to say what love is mine 
For thee, and of what temper. Jesu Mary ! 
That I, a King, God help me ! should so waste 
The night, the dawn, the noon, the dewy eve 
In this sweet serious idleness of love. 
The masquers thicken, and such songs as these 
Are not for ev'ry ear. See ! through this door 
There is a private chamber. Come with me. 

[Exeunt the King and Lisana, 

Enter Ruggiero, masked as Conscience, with a lamp 
and scourge. 

RUGGIERO. 

Surely I know that voice! Lisana's, if I err not. 
And that Knight of St. John was the King. Poor 
girl ! she is in the toils, and they glisten in her eyes 
like a cobweb dew-bespangled. A word of warning 
in her father's ear were not ill bestowed ; and doubtless 
he will be here anon. 

Enter divers Maskers, passing through to the Ball- 
Room, and others passing out. 

FIRST MASK. 

Marco, I think ? Yes, I know you by the wave of 
your feather. What, have you danced ? 

H 



98 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act ra. 

SECOND MASK. 

Ay ; but methinks these festivities are somewhat 
sadly carried. See'st thou the bride yonder ? By my 
faith, she stands more like a marble statue in a mist, 
than a bride of flesh and blood. There — have you 
seen her, Sir ? (to Ruggiero) Ah, now she slinks 
behind the crowd. 

RUGGIERO. 

In truth a pitiable spectacle ! 

I marvel, Sir, what pleasure Age can take 

So airily to deck its dim decline. 

A chaplet of forc'd flowers on Winter's brow 

Seems not less inharmonious to me 

Than the untimely snow on the green leaf. 

SECOND MASK. 

Why, Sir, it is a common error of age to think that 
it can get back the enjoyment of youth by getting 
what only youth can enjoy. 

FIRST MASK. 

Nay, but this was a match of Ubaldo's making, not of 
Ugo's. We are here to dance ; so pass on, I pray you. 
[All pass into the ball-room except 
Euggiero and one Mask. 



scene IT.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 99 

RUGGIERO. 

Gerbetto, no ? 

GERBETTO. 

The same, Sir ; and can I mistake the voice of the 
Count of Arona ? 

RUGGIERO. 

Make me not known, Gerbetto. But when we pass 
in, do thy endeavour to draw the Countess out of the 
crowd to where I shall stand apart. Know you, Ger- 
betto, that your daughter hath secret conference with 
the King ? 

GERBETTO. 

You say not so, my Lord ? 

RUGGIERO. 

I do ; and though the maiden be as modest as the 
rosebud's inmost leaf, yet I like not the sun and the 
south-west wind to play with her. 

GERBETTO. 

You are right, my Lord ; and I shall beseech you to 
give me your counsel. But lo ! the crowd divides, 
and if we take the occasion .... 

RUGGIERO. 

Pass in, I pray. 

[Exeunt. 

H 2 

LOFC, 



100 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act ni. 



SCENE V. 

The Ball-Room, with various groups of Maskers. — In 
front Ugo and Rosalba as bridegroom and bride, 
with Ubaldo and Fiordeliza. Gerbetto joins 
them. Ruggiero is discovered a little apart. Tri- 
bolo, the King's Fool, appears in his usual habit. 

UBALDO. 

More lights, I tell you ! If a canary bird were here 
she would hardly sing. Strike up, musicians ! We 
suffer more in the tuning of your fiddles than the 
music's worth. If the King be taken up into heaven, 
'tis well ; but as we see him neither here nor there, 
'tis no wonder if our guests shall not disport themselves 
as merrily as they are wont. 

UGO. 

If an old man can do aught to make them merry, I 
would fain be assisting. 

UBALDO. 

Old ! why the day makes us all young. 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 101 

FIORDELIZA. 

If your good Lordship would assist me, I pray you to 
find me a discreet and nimble gentleman to dance with. 

UGO. 

I will, sweet Lady. 

ROSALBA. 

My friend, my Fiordeliza, leave me not. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Come hither, Fool. How is it that thou com'st to the 
King's masked ball without a mask ? 

TRIBOLO. 

Please your sweet Ladyship, my sister told me the 
solemnity was of that nature that I should show it my 
countenance, and not my mask. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Thy sister ? I knew not thou hadst a sister. Who is 
she? 

[TRIBOLO. 

The world calls her Wisdom. The wisdom of the 
world, my Lady, was ever born-sister to a fool. 

FIORDELIZA. 

The fool were no fool that should own that. 

H 3 



102 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act in. 

TRIBOLO. 

Then there is my mask, and the fool is no fool for the 
occasion. 

gerbetto (to Ruggiero in the side scene). 
She says she must know who you are before she shall 
speak with you apart. 

RUGGIERO. 

Then be it openly, and not apart. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Fool, thou art melancholy. 

' TRIBOLO. 

No wonder, Lady, if you consider my dreams last 
night. 

FIORDELIZA. 

What didst thou dream ? 

TRIBOLO. 

I dreamt I was a tailor going to be married, and that 
I went to church sitting cross-legged a- top of a hearse 
and stitching at my shroud. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Was that all? 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 103 

TRIBOLO. 

No. I dreamt that I was a thousand miles out at sea, 
sitting astride of an empty cask, and a beauteous sea- 
nymph bobbing before me ; but I could not come at her. 

UBALDO. 

The King, doubtless, hath his own amusements, and 
we will wait no longer. Ho ! gallants, gallants, match 
ye for the dance! strike up, musicians! Serve a 
bumper round. Ho! gallants, follow me; this way, 
this way. 

ruggiero {advancing). 
Pass ye no further till my voice be heard. 

UBALDO. 

What voice is that ? a merry mask I trow. 
Well, speak ; I like the humour of thy mask, 
Though it be dismal. Whom dost thou present ? 

RUGGIERO. 

Sirs, I am Conscience. With this lamp I search 
The hearts of sinners, with this scourge chastise. 
Men feast, men dance, men revel, — but I come. 
The shouts of jollity and riot rise ; 
But what though jollity and riot shout, 

h 4 



104 THE VIRGIN WIDOW, Lact in. 

My knock is heard, and let me in they must. 

For wheresoever Evil enters, there 

I follow with my lamp, and Evil thus 

Is, palpable, or by his substance seen, 

Or by his shadow. Then my lamp I lift 

As now I lift it — yea, I lift my lamp, 

And lift my scourge — for therefore am I here. 

Musicians, cease ; ye dancers, cease to dance, 

Trampling ye know not what beneath your feet. 

What ye with noise and dancing celebrate 

Are vows by prior vows made perfidy — 

A heartless, faithless show of plighted faith. 

UBALDO. 

What masking call ye this ? A mask indeed 
That masks a railer and a villain. Ho ! 
Tear off this caitiff's mask — tear off his mask. 

GERBETTO {supporting Rosalba), 
Sirs, she wants air — I pray you stand aside. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Cheerly, my sweet Rosalba ! Villain ! 

UGO. 

Run, 
Fetch that elixir .... 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 105 

UBALDO. 

Tear me off his mask ; 
Tear off the villain's mask. 

RUGGIERO. 

Ye shall not need. 



[ Unmasking. 



Ruggiero ! 



FIORDELIZA. 
FIRST MASK. 

What ! the Count ? 



SECOND MASK. 

'Tis he indeed ! 

THIRD MASK. 

As strangely found as lost ! 

FOURTH MASK. 

Most wonderful ! 

UGO. 

Who is it, Sirs ? who is it ? for my eyes .... 

UBALDO. 

I would that mine were dimmer than they are. 
My Lord, or e'er thou ask me to unsay 
The name I gave thee in thy mask, say thou 
Wherefore thou troublest thus our marriage feast. 



106 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act ra. 

RUGGIERO. 

Say what you please, and unsay what you will. 
Silisco lov'd your daughter ; she lov'd him ; 
And pledg'd her faith that this side All- Saints-Eve 
She would not wed another. I demand 
Why walks she here a bride ? 

UBALDO. 

This outrage grows ! 
Who says she lov'd ? 

ROSALBA. 

Father, I did, I did. 

UBALDO. 

Or pledg'd her faith ? 

ROSALBA. 

I did, but he was false. 

FIORPELIZA. 

Gerbetto knows it — and he slew the espous'd 
Of her with whom he traffick'd. . 

GERBETTO. 

Sir, 'tis true ; 
He slew him in the caverns. 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW 107 

RUGGIERO. 

Oh, sad chance ! 
Disastrous error ! Was it this betray'd 
The maiden's faith ! Why then shall pity plead 
Against all anger. Whom he slew I know, — 
A wretch who, for the plunder of his ship, 
Sent to the bottom her and all her crew, 
By name Spadone. In the Catacombs, 
Silisco, hiding from his creditors, 
Met — innocently met, by accident — 
Spadone's paramour. By him assail'd, 
He, certes, slew him. 

UBALDO. 

At the point of death 
Spadone said .... 

RUGGIERO. 

What like enough he thought ; 
For with a hundred murders did he reek, 
And foulest thoughts were uppermost. But lo ! 
If any here shall say Silisco's soul 
Was not as pure as infant's at the breast, 
True as confessing saints, — there is my glove — 
I'll prove upon his body that he lies. 



108 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act hi. 

Three Knights come forward. 

FIRST KNIGHT. 

There be three here will take this quarrel up 
Upon the bride's behalf. 

ROSALBA. 

Oh, not on mine ! 
My cause is bad — I broke my promise — oh ! 
Silisco, ever, evermore belov'd ! 
Forgive me ! oh forgive me ! I was false, 
And thou wert faithfuller than the constant fire 
That burns the centre ! 

UBALDO. 

Daughter ! art thou mad ? 

FIORDELIZA. 

She faints, she falls. 

GERBETTO. 

Make room — to the air — to the air! 
[Rosalba is taken out by Ger~ 
betto and Fiordeliza. 

UBALDO. 

See, Sir, your mischief prospers. But the King 
Shall know of this, and instantly. My friends, 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 109 

Ye see how this, which should have been a feast, 
By this man's meddling insolence is marr'd. 
This shall the King redress ; and some time hence 
Well have our pastime; for this present, Sirs, 
Your further aid I ask not. Fare you well ! 

[Exit. 

UGO. 

Before ye go, Sirs, pray you hear me speak. 
For I am sorely troubled, yea, my heart 
Is full of grief. I knew not, Sirs, till now 
Of this sweet lady's love, nor of her pledge 
Given, as this lord avouches, to his friend, 
That worthy knight, my Lord of Malespina. 
Sirs, had I known it, not for worlds and worlds 
Would I have done her that discourtesy 
To force myself upon her to her wrong. 
Sirs, what I can I will for her relief. 
I call you all to witness, I renounce 
All rights from this day's injury deriv'd. 
I '11 never more approach her. 

RUGGIERO. 

Noble Sir, 
Your pardon, if I wrong'd you. 



1 10 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act rii, 

UGO. 
Nay, not so. 
The sorrows of this day are born of sin, 
A secret sin, whereof to cleanse my soul 
I hasten now. I pray you help me hence. 
Forth on a perilous pilgrimage I go, 
Sorely to suffer for my sore offence. 

RUGGIERO. 

Count, think not I accuse you .... 

UGO. 

No, Sir, no ; 
My sin is other than against this maid, 
Whom, verily, I married for her good, 
Her sire protesting 'twas her will — no less 
For her own good than that exceeding love 
I bore her and shall ever bear — and now 
There's nothing I can suffer that my soul 
Shall not rejoice to suffer, even to death, 
If haply so appeasing God, He shower 
A blessing on that lady and her love. 

\Exit, followed by all except Kuggiero. 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. Ill 

RUGGIERO. 

A gallant and magnanimous old man ! 

Much injury have I done him, God forgive me ! 

In thinking slightly of his slender wit, 

By greatness of his heart so glorified. 

Till now I knew not he had utterance ; 

But generous sorrows and high purposes 

Make the dumb speak. Ye orators, note that. 

That in the workshop of your head weave words. 

Enter Gerbetto. 

GERBETTO. 

Strange day is this ! My Lord, the aged Count 
Prepares, in sackcloth clad, to issue forth 
The city gates, afoot and unattended, 
To seek the Holy Sepulchre. A vow 
Made this day three years, when his former wife 
Lay sick to death, did bind him, as he says, 
Within three years in such wise to perform 
This pilgrimage, the disregard whereof 
He deems to be the cause of this day's griefs. 
And therefore, ere the stroke of twelve foreclose 
Upon his pledge, he needs will take his way 
Alone, on foot, toward Jerusalem. 



112 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act hi, sc. v. 

RUGGIERO. 

A brave resolve ! but which to execute 

His body is unequal, Ere he reach 

A three days' journey, he shall fall by the way. 

He must be follow'd though he know it not, 

And tended at his need. Wilt thou do this ? 

GERBETTO. 

I will, my Lord ; nor shall it hold me long ; 
I know the nature of his maladies ; 
Scarce for one week can they sustain the toil 
Of journeying afoot. But, good my Lord, 
I pray you, whether it be days or months, 
Be careful, in my absence, of my child ; 
Fulfil her father's duties, and defeat 
The King's designs, if evil. 

RUGGIERO. 

Ah, the King ! 
I know that dangerous softness of the King, 
And how it works in issue. Lovingly, 
Like a tame tiger, that long licks the hand 
Till he draw blood, then maddens, doth he now 
Fondle Lisana. He shall not draw blood 
Whilst blood of mine is living in my veins. 

[Exeunt. 



ACT IV. sc. I.] THE VIKGIN WIDOW. 113 



ACT IV. 

SCENE I. 

The Palace at Palermo — Ubaldo and The Chief 
Justiciary. 

ubaldo. 
This passion, Sir, for this doctor's daughter, which is 
lost, is, to speak privately, a kind of madness in the 
King ; and it is a madness which many moons have 
shined upon. It is now nigh upon six since the 
maiden was seen last, being, I think, the night of my 
daughter's marriage, when Gerbetto, her father, fol- 
lowed in Count Ugo's wake to Jerusalem. As for 
these charges against the Count of Arona, touching 
matters of accompt and malversations, they are but 
colourable. The true ground of the proceedings is a 
species of jealousy and amorous rage against the 
Count, who, it is certain, for fault of some employ- 
ment that should better commend his virtue and dis- 

i 



114 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act it. 

cretion, did very strangely carry off this doctor's 
daughter, and holds her somewhere in concealment. 

THE CHIEF JUSTICIARY. 

The King, as you say, my Lord, speaking privately, 
must be clean lunatic to make this ado about a 
doctor's daughter ; seeing that he might disport him- 
self at his pleasure with a hundred doctor's daughters, 
not to say a hundred ladies of greater estimation and 
nobility. Nevertheless, the lunacy of a King must be 
respected, and I do continually what in me lies to 
discover where the wench is concealed, and to take 
the person of the Count. 

UBALDO. 

Truly the Count shall be no loss at the Council 
Board ; for his words went for more than they were 
worth with the King, and in matters of statecraft 
he was but a pedant, I have my own conceit of this 
matter, which squares not with the King's ; and not- 
withstanding the Count's exorbitancy in the carrying 
off of a wench, I deem that he is more likely to be 
found in an old track than in a new one. I would 
have you set a watch upon the Lady Fiordeliza ; and 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW, 115 

where the hen-bird hath her nest, you may look for 
the cock to come. 

THE CHIEF JUSTICIARY. 

I will take your Lordship's guidance. Know you 
where the Lady Fiordeliza may be met with ? 

UBALDO. 

She hath lately gone to sojourn for a season with my 
daughter, who lives like a nun since her marriage ; 
and hath chosen for her nunnery the Castle of 
Malespina, which fell to Count Ugo in satisfaction of 
the debt due to him from the former Lord of it, that 
castaway, Silisco. There, I think, she will be found, 
and he thereabouts. 

THE CHIEF JUSTICIARY. 

There shall he be sought. If your good Lordship will 
bring me to the King, I will crave his signature to 
these warrants. 

[Exeunt. 



i 2 



1]6 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act iv. 

SCENE II. 
The Castle of Malespina — Rosalba and Fiordeliza. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Does nothing ever happen in this castle ? I have 
been gazing up the great avenue for an hour and 
more, trying to think that there was a Knight Errant 
pricking forward at the further end ; but I saw only 
two rabbits that crossed the road in a leisurely 
manner on their affairs, and a squirrel which, for 
want of something to do, jumped from one tree 
and flung itself into the arms of another over the way. 
Look at Lion ; he sleeps away his second childhood 
at the gate ; and if you hear a grunt, 'tis that he 
dreams of his younger days, when once upon a time 
he saw a stranger and barked. For myself, my only 
companion is the ancient steward, and his only topic 
is the wholesomeness of the air; a commendation 
which I dare not deny, inasmuch as all the persons 
I have seen beside himself, are ten serving men whose 
joint ages are nine hundred and thirty-six. 



scene ii.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 1 1 7 

ROSALBA. 

I wish the castle could be made more cheerful for 
you ; but how can it, the present Lord of it being so 
far away on so perilous an enterprise, and the late 
Lord .... Oh Fiordeliza! are the imaginations of 
my heart very wicked when they wander after him ? 

FIORDELIZA. 

You know best. How should I take the measure of 
their wickedness ? 

ROSALBA. 

It is doubt and fear which keep my thoughts so busy. 
If I did but know more about him I should think less. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Something, then, you do know ? 

ROSALBA. 

Shall I tell you ? Yes. In a summer-house which 
was once a temple — you can see the corner of it 
yonder in the wood on the other side of the brook 
— is a statue of Silisco, made when he was a 
boy. A statue of Antinoiis stands opposite to it, and 
Silisco's is the more beautiful of the two. On the 
evening after my arrival, as I was looking upon it, 

i 3 



118 THE VIRGIN WIDOW- [act iv. 

I descried in the fold, where the hand joins the 
drapery, a thread of silk, fastened to which was this 
scroll. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Oh, let me see it. 

ROSALBA. 

No, Fiordeliza, I cannot give it you. See, you will 

tear it. 

itordeliza (reading). 
" Here my footsteps must not be 
After this my infancy. 
They shall wander far and wide, 
By pleasure tempted first and tried; 
Then by passion, which with wings 
Shall lift them where the skylark sings ; 
Anguish and repentance next 
Back shall drive them sore perplex d. 
Whither then ? A grateful mind 
A grateful work shall seek and find. 
When heroic ardour reigns 
In an old man's shrivelVd veins, 
Youthful veins were shamed indeed 
If they bled not where his bleeoU* 

He has been here then. 



scene tl] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 119 

ROSALBA. 

From the farmer on the demesne I learn, that from 
about the time of Silisco's disappearance from Pa- 
lermo, there lodged at the Farm a person of a light, 
lofty, and graceful appearance, courteous and winning 
of demeanour, who answers to Silisco in every thing, 
except that he was not gay, but pensive and retiring. 
He went hence, no one knows whither, on the day of 
my arrival. 

FIORDELIZA. 

I wish he would come back. Is there no hope of 
him? 

ROSALBA. 

None, Fiordeliza, none. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Why then I return to my former aspiration, and I 
wish for any Knight Errant that it may please Provi- 
dence to send us. 

ROSALBA. 

You said once that flowers and sunshine were enough 
for you. 

i 4 



120 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act iv. 

FIORDELIZA. 

While the sun is hot and the flowers are happy. But 
look at yonder sunflower on one side the arch, how- 
it hangs its head ! and at the hollyhock leaning over 
from the other ; they are heart-broken about the last 
carnation, poor thing ! for it died yesterday. This 
gusty wind, which is getting up, is to sing its dirge. 
Lo ! See ! There is a Knight Errant ! 

ROSALBA. 

Where ? 

FIORDELIZA. 

Behind that mountain-ash ; when the wind waves it, 
you'll see him. There — and I protest I believe he is 
very handsome. He seems as if he did not know 
which way to go. Send some one 

ROSALBA. 

I see no Knight Errant. 

FIORDELIZA'. 

How blind you are ! — there — there. 

ROSALBA. 

That, my dear ? That is the scarecrow which I told 



scene il] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 121 

Girolamo to put there yesterday, to keep the black- 
birds from the gourds. 

FIORDELIZA. 

How can you be so unkind, Rosalba ! Everybody 
deceives me, and I know the scarecrow was put there 
on purpose. However. 

ROSALBA. 

Nay, you deceived yourself now ; and I cannot think 
that you have ever been deceived by another. I 
should not quarrel with you for seeing that which is 
not, if you would but believe in that which is ; for, 
trust me, it is when we are most faithless that we are 
most deceived. Believe in Ruggiero, and you will 
have present peace and a reward to come. To me 
experience has given a sharp schooling against dis- 
trust, and I will never again let the world's outcry and 
the masking of circumstance get the better of a faith- 
ful instinct. 

FIORDELIZA. 

I never did so yet ; and when the world and circum- 
stance commended Ruggiero for a young nobleman of 



122 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act it. 

excellent discretion and infinite sobriety, my faithful 
instinct told me, there is something wicked here. 

Morn, that look'st so grim and grey, 

Tell me truly, tell me truly, 
What wilt thou be ere mid -day ? 
Who can say, who can say ? 
Flaunting forth in garments gay, 

Darting beams unruly, 

Darting beams unruly. 

No, no ; when he ran oif with Lisana, it was but a 
clenching and confirming. 

ROSALBA. 

They disappeared together ; whether he took her away 
I know not ; but if he did, it was for no evil purpose. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Oh no, none. Doubtless he withdrew with her to the 
desert, for a season of fasting and humiliation. 

Enter- Mariana. 

MARIANA. 

Please you, my Lady, the Falconer sends his duty, 
and Alathiella has not touched her food for three days. 
He is fearful she will die, and he says the Count gave 
a thousand crowns for her. 



scene ii.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 123 

ROSALBA. 

Poor bird! she doted on her master, and has never 
held up her head since she missed him. I fear she 
will die, like some of her betters, of a broken heart. 

MARIANA. 

He says he knows but of one thing to do with her, 
which is to take her to the Conjurer at the Farm. 

FIORDELIZA. 

The Conjurer! who is he ? 

MARIANA. 

Have you not heard of him, my Ladj^ ? 'Tis the 
strangest story ! 

FIORDELIZA. 

If there be anything strange left us here below, I 
prithee tell of it ; for I thought that every-day drop- 
pings had worn the world as smooth as a wash-ball. 
How came a conjurer to the Farm ? 

MARIANA. 

I will tell you, my Lady. It was the very night of 
the going off of the wart on my thumb, and the day 
after the worm in Maria's nose put out horns, Dame 
Agata, being in her first sleep, heard a great rushing 



124 THE VIEGIN WIDOW. [act iv. 

of wings; and so says she to her husband, " Osporco, 
either the Devil is hereabouts, or there's a cock- 
chafer ; " and then there came a knock. So, says she, 
" Wait to see if they knock again, and if they do, put 
your blunderbuss out at the window, and ask if there's 
any thing wanted." Well, the knock came a second 
time, and then a third ; and Osporco looked out and 
saw a tall man in a horseman's cloak, which said he 
lacked a lodging ; and as he was but one by himself, 
they let him in, and he has lodged there ever since. 

ROSALBA. 

But is he a Conjurer ? 

MARIANA. 

Surely, my Lady, no one but a Conjurer was ever 
heard of to come flying through the air in that way. 
And besides that, he is a magnificent man to look at, 
and orders this and orders that, as though he held the 
powers of the air at his bidding. And then he wan- 
ders out by moonlight a-culling of simples ; and he 
heals the sick ; and they come to him from ten miles 
round, though Father Fungoso tells them it were 
better to die and be saved than be healed and be 



scene n.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 125 

damned. But the Falconer says that, be it as it may 
with us, Alathiella has no soul to trouble her, and she 
may take any cure she can come by. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Well, I do not believe he is a Conjurer, or that it will 
hurt us to heal us. Kosalba, I am sick. 

ROSALBA. 

Of what, my love? of solitude or of my society ? 

FIORDELIZA. 

I must send for this stranger. 

ROSALBA. 

Oh, then I know what ails you. It is curiosity. 

FIORDELIZA. 

I say I am sick ; very grievous sick. Mariana, send 
word of it to the Farm, and say that the stranger 
must come with all the speed he can. 

MARIANA. 

I will say, with what speed he can in the way of 
nature ; but he must not come rushing through the air 
with wings. 



126 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act IV. 

FIORDELIZA. 

In the way of nature will serve. I shall live till he 
comes in a natural way. But I will give the orders 
myself. Tell Girolamo to attend me in the conser- 
vatory. Come, Rosalba. 

[Exeunt. 



SCENE III. 



The Farmstead at Malespina — Ruggiero alone, 

RUGGIERO. 

So flies the year, and flying fades. The Sun 
Comes not so like a bridegroom from his bed. 
And Nature greets him with a changing cheek. 
The willows wash their tresses in the brook 
That shrank before, but swells to meet them now ; 
The plane-tree leaf is piebald with black blots ; 
Upon the snowberry-bush the big drops bead ; 
And the goose plants starr'd patterns of her foot 
In the moist clay. Swift, changeful year, pass on ; 
Sweet was the savour of thy prime, and sweet 
Should be thy fruitage. But the wild boar breaks . . 



scene in.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 127 

Enter Osporco, the Farmer. 
Good morrow, friend ; the air hath some taste now of 
the sharpness of the season. 

OSPORCO. 

Ay, Sir ; the cat sits in the sunniest window-pane, 
and the bees have left the rosier for the ivy. Well, 
every man his own sunshine, is what I say ; and your 
friend that left us at shearing time .... Ah ! he 
was a friendly-hearted gentleman- — and very noble, 
Sir, very noble ; you would have thought yourself at 
court ; he would hand a chair to my wife as though 
she were the queen of the land : and when he went 
away, my daughters wept like waterspouts — I thought 
some of them would have died of it, and I have but 
thirteen. My Lady at the Castle (God be good to 
her!) often asks me about him, and I tell her if I were 
a Countess, I would give him one hundred ducats 
a year to sit over against me at meal-times, just to 
look at. 

HUGGIERO. 

Then might she forget her food and be famished un- 
awares. I think I know whither our friend is gone ; 



128 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act rv. 

and, barring accidents of the road and the hazards of 
long journeyings in foreign parts, it may not be long 
ere we see him. 

OSPORCO. 

Tell that to my youngest daughter, and you shall see 
her quiver again with joy like the tail of a lamb that 
sucks. But I forget my errand. There is an old 
man at the cottage, Sir, which cannot be persuaded 
but that you can make him young again if you please, 
he has heard so much of your skill in curing divers 
diseases ; and there is a young woman that hath a 
quandary. 

RUGGIERO. 

A what ? 

OSFOKCO. 

A quandary, she calls it ; but, indeed, I think it is a 
crack somewhere. And Gambo, the grazier, hath 
brought you his wife, that hath the ringworm on her 
finger and the rattlesnake in her tongue, and prays 
you would take and cure her : but, indeed, if you 
cure her he cares not that you should take her, and 
if you take her he cares not that you should cure 
her. 



scene iv.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 129 

RUGGIERO. 

You are merry, my friend. 

OSPORCO. 

The frosty air, Sir. But, to speak soberly, there are 
at the cottage no fewer than fifteen men, women, 
and children, which think you can cure any thing, 
and have come to be cured of their simplicities. 

RUGGIERO. 

I will attend them. I have said often, and I say it 
again, that my doctor's lore is but the scattered lights 
that came across me in my studies and meditations. 
But if they can reach no better skill, they may com- 
mand mine. 

[Exeunt 



SCENE IV. 

A Lane in the Neighbourhood of the Castle of Males- 
pina — A Proyost and two Marshalsmen. 

PROVOST. 

We must by no means follow him in ; for being the 
castle of the great Chamberlain's daughter, t'were an 
offence to enter it. 

K 



130 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act iv. 

FIRST MARSHALSMAN. 

On the King's errand ? 

PROVOST. 

Better for such as we to look to the Chamberlain than 
to the King. If a man would prosper, he should 
be more nimble to please those near above him than 
those far above him. Even were the King to re- 
member a small service, it should hardly fall in his 
way to befriend us. 

SECOND MARSHALSMAN. 

He would not so much as know our names. 

PROVOST. 

Moreover, it is better to do no man a displeasure, 
than to do any man a good turn. For you may be 
sure of reprisals ; but who can count upon rewards ? 

SECOND MARSHALSMAN. 

Truly there are ten revengeful men for one that is 
thankful. 

PROVOST. 

Therefore, though we could take the Count no other 
way, I would not follow him into the Castle. But if 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 131 

we watch for him as he comes out, we cannot miss 
him ; and if we do not tarry long we may get half-way 
through the forest with him before nightfall. 

FIRST MARSHALSMAN. 

Sleeping at St. Elmo's in the forest to-night, we 
should reach the court on Wednesday. 

SECOND MARSHALSMAN. 

Then we are to ensconce ourselves here. 



PROVOST. 

Behind yonder bushes, close to the gate. 



[Exeunt. 



SCENE V. 
The Castle of Malespina — Fiordeliza and Mariana. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Not if he came back to you weeping, and went on his 
knees to be forgiven ? 

MARIANA. 

No, my Lady ; if Giovanni were to do so by me, I 
should say, once gone and gone for ever. 

K 2 



132 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act iv. 

FIORDELIZA. 

'Twere to be of a most unchristian spirit, if he were 
truly penitent and thou should'st not forgive him. 

MARIANA. 

I would forgive him : but T would kill him first. 

FIORDELIZA. 

That were indeed to temper justice with mercy. 
Only the justice should be sharp and the mercy some- 
thing tardy. Come, Mariana ; you are in the bud 
still, — green and hard. I remember, I, too, when I 
was young . . . 

MARIANA. 

Why, my Lady, eighteen is not old. 

FIORDELIZA. 

When I was young I was of your way of thinking. I 
used to say to myself, You and I, my good Fiordeliza, 
will not trouble our hearts about mankind, unless they 
should cling to us, and cleave to us, and lick the dust 
from our feet. .But change grows out of time as a 
plant grows out of the earth, and in a year or two we 
are no more like what we were than the blade is like 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 133 

the seed. Adversity tames us, Mariana, as winter 
tames the birds. Do I look pale and sick ? 

MARIANA. 

No, my Lady. A little pale, it may be, but not sick. 

FIORDELIZA. 

That is not as it should be. The Conjurer will not 

believe me, and he will be here anon. Shut out the 

light a little. Now go fetch me my scarf, to muffle 

me up. 

[Exit Mariana. 

I'm but the mimic of my former self, 

And wretchedly I do the imitation ! 

Ruggiero ! oh Ruggiero ! bitterer tears 

Than tenderer women weep, I weep for thee ; 

And thou, with all thine insight, never saw'st 

Their source, it lies so secret and so deep. 

Oh, much I wrong'd thee ! many a time and oft 

I wounded thee through petulance and pride, 

And love's delight in sporting with its prey, 

And wayward wilfulness ; but though a child 

In frowardness and mischief, I was still 

A woman in my love — and, oh, compare 

Man's love with that, and see how thin the thread, 

k 3 



134 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act IV. 

How frail the tissue ! Me nor wounds nor slights, 

Insults nor injuries, nor life nor death, 

Could e'er have sunder'd. Yes, 'tis gone, 'tis past, — 

Past and he knows not, and will never know, 

What treasures of the mine were hidden beneath 

The wild-flowers and the weeds ! For ever gone ! 

Methinks that I could weep no less for him 

Than for myself, that he should lose my love, 

It is so great and deep. But what cares he ? 

He has Lisana's. Had he been but cold, 

I could have borne it — but so false, so false ! 

Re-enter Mariana. 

MARIANA. 

The Conjurer has come. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Oh, has he ? Here — 
Look — wrap this round me; so, — now bring him in. 

[Exit Mariana. 
If he should prove a soothsayer indeed, 
He'll draw the curtain from this mystery, 
And tell me both what present harbour holds 
Kuggiero, and what fate the future breeds 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 135 

For him and me. I trust it is no sin, 
Seeking to soothsayers in such straits as mine ; 
But if it be, I must. Yet I shall blush 
To question him. I'll turn away my face, 
And seem to be, what verily I believe 
I shall be soon, by mortal sickness seiz'd. 

Then, after, I'll revive. 

[Lies down on a Couch, 

Enter Ruggiero. 

RUGGIERO. 

Softly, she sleeps. 
Oh, blessed Sleep ! what art can vie with thine 
In healing of the sick ! oh, pious Sleep, 
Sister of mercy ! nurse her back to health. 
She stirs ! Have I awaken'd her ? 

FIORDELIZA. 

Some spell 
Of wond'rous potency he mutters now ; 
For at his voice there comes a gushing up 
Of twenty bubbling springs that fill my breast 
With joys of other days. Sir, if your art 
Can track diseases to their caves, I pray you 
k 4 



136 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act it. 

Pronounce of mine, and whether in the mind 
It kennels, or the body ; for the print 
Might either way incline me. 

RUGGIERO. 

Fiordeliza. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Who calls me ? Now I know that I am mad. 
What voice is that ? 

RUGGIERO. 

The voice of one who once 
Could please you, and though that may no more be, 
Would still bestead you. 

FIORDELIZA. 

'Tis his voice ! Ruggiero ! 

RUGGIERO. 

Forgive me, Fiordeliza, if the charm 
Of some deceitful hours too quickly past, 
Too slowly parted with, misled my steps 
To haunt your whereabout. Forgive me, you. 
I, should I minister to your present need, 
Would then forgive myself. What ails you ? 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 137 

FIORDELIZA. 

Me? 
A headache — nothing — nothing you can cure. 
You minister to me ! I thank you, — no : 
If need were I could die ; but, prais'd be God, 
I am not in extremity. A quip 
That put me in good humour, were a cure 
For all that ails me. 

RUGGIERO. 

Then the word was false 
They brought ? 

FIORDELIZA. 

'Twas falser than the father of lies, 
If it cried " help" to you. 

RUGGIERO. 

No need of this ; 
Of vehement disavowal there's no need 
To undeceive me had I thought you kind. 
I have but to recal the past. 

FIORDELIZA. 

What past ? 
Speak out your quarrel with the past ; and I 



1 38 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act iv. 

Will tell you of my quarrel with the present. 

I was kind once unless my memory errs, 

And if I seem'd to change without a cause, 

What since has follow'd shows that cause enough 

There might have been ; for aught I know, there was. 

How read you then the history of the past 

To make me seem too harsh ? 

RUGGIERO. 

How read I it ? 
I read it but as they that run may read ; 
A tale of no uncustomary kind. 
The love whose dawn beheld its earliest glow 
Reflected, as it rose to perfect day, 
Saw the bright colouring of the vaporous cloud 
Grow pale and disappear. My springing love, 
So long as it was pleasant, light, and free, 
Was prosperous ; but it pass'd too soon to passion. 
I could not make a plaything of my love ; 
I could not match it with your sportive moods, 
'Till garlands should be conjur'd into chains ; 
I could not lightly agitate and fan 
The airier motions of an amorous fancy, 
And by a skill in blowing hot and cold 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 139 

And changeful dalliance, quicken you with doubts, 

And keep you in the dark till you should kindle. 

I was not ignorant that arts like these 

Avail, when bare simplicity of love 

Falls flat ; but be they strong or weak, these means 

Were none of mine, and though my heart should 

break, 
(As humbly I believe it will not,) still 
More willingly would I suffer by such arts 
Than practise them. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Have I then practis'd arts ? 
One art I know, — to judge men by their acts, 
And not their seemings. I should not be loth 
Some faults to own, Ruggiero, did I know 
That he to whom I own'd them would own his. 
But there should be a justice in confession. 
Yours is the greater fault ; confess you first. 

RUGGIERO. 

Most fully, frankly, freely, from the heart 
Will I pour out confessions. I am proud, 
Inflexible, undutiful, self-will'd, 



140 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act iv, 

In anger violent, of a moody mind, 

And latterly morose ; what further ? sad, 

Severe, vindictive. 

FIORDELIZA. 

How confession loves 
To fight with shadows, whilst the substance flies. 
You have not said that in a slippery hour 
You stain'd a maiden's honour and your own. 

RUGGIERO. 

That which I have not said, I have not done. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Where is Lisana ? 

RUGGIERO. 

Wheresoe'er she be, 
Her innocence is with her. 

FIORDELIZA. 

But where is she ? 

RUGGIERO. - 

Secrets that are my own you may command. 
This is another's. 

FIORDELIZA. 

You refuse to tell. 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 141 

RUGGIERO. 

It is but for a season I refuse. 

I may not tell you till St. Michael's Eve. 

But then I may. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Gramercy for the boon ! 
Seek, Sir, henceforth the love of those you trust, 
And never more seek mine. Sir, fare you well ! 
Excuse the blunder which beguil'd you hither ; 
And hie you, if conveniently you can, 
To some more distant spot than whence you came. 

RUGGIERO. 

To you and to your vicinage, farewell ! 
The refuge that is most remote is best : 
A prison at Palermo not the worst. 



[Exit* 



FIORDELIZA. 

A prison ! And the King, as some believe, 
Is greedy for his life. Alas ! alas ! 
How cruelly I spake ! And at the Farm, 
And nowhere else, perchance, could he be safe. 
And I have driven him thence, and he will rush 



142 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act iv. 

Oh, look ! I see his blood upon my hands ! 
Come back, Euggiero, dear, belov'd Euggiero ! 
Eeturn — return — I knew not what I said — 
Come back to me — forgive me — oh, come back ! 

[Exit 

Enter Fra Martino and Girolamo. 

FRA MARTINO. 

Where is the Lady Fiordeliza ? These letters, Giro- 
lamo, bring us the fatal tidings which we have so long 
expected. Your honoured master died at Jerusalem 
that very hour that we were sadly celebrating his 
birthday here at Malespina. 

GIROLAMO. 

Alas ! we seemed to know it then ; and the letters 
that tell of it now might be thought but to certify 
what was seen darkly before. 

FRA MARTINO. 

The Chamberlain writes me that the Countess must 
repair to Palermo with all convenient speed for cer- 
tain ceremonies which the law enjoins. But where is 
the Lady Fiordeliza ? She will be of more comfort 
to my Lady than I. 






scenb v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 143 

Enter Mariana. 

MARIANA. 

Oh, piteous spectacle ! oh, rogues and slaves ! 
That I should live to see it ! 

FRA MARTINO. 

Mariana ! 

MARIANA. 

Oh, shame upon you ! Shame ! to stand like stocks 
And see him taken ! Do you hear her skrieks ? 
She'll die of this — I know she will — oh shame ! 
There ! hark ! she shrieks again ! 

FRA MARTINO. 

Who shrieks ? be calm ; 
Say what has happen'd ? 

MARIANA. 

They have seiz'd the Count. 

FRA MARTINO. 



What Count? 



MARIANA. 

His Lordship of Arona. 

FRA MARTINO. 



Where ? 



144 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act I v. sc. v. 

MARIANA. 

There — not a bowshot from the Castle gate — 
Before my Lady's eyes. 

GIROLAMO. 

Where were my men ? 

MARIANA. 

Your men ? you have no men. 
Twenty bald heads I saw put out at windows, 
And gouty feet went shuffling over floors — 
But as to manhood, there is more in me 
Than in a hundred of such mummies. Oh ! 
Had there been one stouthearted wench to back me ! 

FRA MARTINO. 

Run, Girolamo — send a summons round 

To all the Count's retainers. Oh, those cries ! 

Go, take her to her chamber. — Is she there ? 

[Exeunt. 



act v. sc. I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 145 



ACT V. 

SCENE I. 

The Station of St, Elmo in the Forest — Silisco in 
pilgrim's weeds. 

SILISCO. 

Full many from the Holy Land return 
Less holy than they went. My pilgrimage, 
In gratitude and earthly love begun, 
To heavenly, let me hope, shall lead at last ; 
For t'was not ended when I westward turn'd, 
Nor was I more in Palestine, methinks, 
A pilgrim and a stranger in the land 
Than here in Sicily I feel myself. 
Hark ! there are voices ! travellers, no doubt. 
This shelter then will not be all mine own. 
Why should it be ? So churlish am I grown 
That nothing pleases me but Solitude, 
She that for shadows keeps an open house, 



146 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

And entertains the future and the past. 

Yes — there are voices — from which side I know not"; 

And through the mist is nothing to be seen 

But apparitions thin — the ghosts of trees. 

Enter the Provost and Marshalsmen, with Ruggiero 
as a Prisoner. 

God's mercy ! 'Tis Ruggiero ! Hush, be still, 
Unruly tongue ! In custody, I think. 

PROVOST. 

Foul ways, foul ways. When a bog, a fog, and a 
forest conspire, 'tis well for travellers to be housed 
betimes. Hey ! but here's a Pilgrim before us ! Light 
a fire, my lads. Ha ! here's the blood of old Guffo on 
the hearth-stone still. He resisted to the death, and 
we were forced to slay him. God save you, Sir 
Pilgrim. 

SILISCO. 

Save you, Sir ! 

PROVOST. 

You see here a great man, Sir, that was once. But 
we will say no more. The course of justice, Sir. 



scENfii.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 147 

SILISCO 

I have heard that Greatness and Justice come together 
more often as opposites than allies. 

PROVOST. 

Hey! How is that? Seek about, lads, in the wood 
for the driest sticks you can find, and I'll fetch down 
the rushes from the loft — looking to locks and bars 
though first. 

[Exeunt Provost and Marshalsmen. 

SILISCO. 

Ruggiero ! 

RUGGIERO. 

Sir, you know my name ; what more ? 

SILISCO. 

Much more, Ruggiero. Am I then so chang'd 
You know me not? Were you as chang'd as I, 
I scarce can think that beard, or gown, or hood, 
Or tawny paintings of the Syrian sun, 
Or inward alteration working out, 
Could hide Ruggiero from Silisco. 

RUGGIERO. 

Ha! 

Silisco ! grace defend us ! whence art thou ? 
L 2 



148 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

S1LISCO. 

From Palestine. But is it thus we meet ? 
What courtly perfidy or princely lapse 
Hath brought these cursed fetters upon hands 
That might have preach'd with Paul ? 

RUGGIERO. 

Of that anon. 
Tis but the chafing of the lovesick King 
At losing of Lisana. And you come 
From Palestine ? Then the good Count is dead ? 

SILISCO. 

No care could save him. To my charge he gave 
A priceless relic for Rosalba's hands, 
Wherewith I now repair to Malespina. 

RUGGIERO. 

Hush ! here's the Provost. 

Re-enter the Vrovo&y from above. 

SILISCO. 

Did you hear a cry ? 
A howling as of wolves ? no, did you not ? 
Where be your men ? 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 149 

PROVOST. 

What! wolves, Sir? Blockheads! dolts! 
If there be wolves, why come they not within ? 

['Erfc 

SILISCO. 

Go, seek thy fellow-blockheads in the fog, 
And spare us time to speak. Lisana, said you ? 
Was she the cause of quarrel ? 

RUGGIERO. 

She it was ; 
Seeing I hid her from his amorous quest, 
And where, he cannot to this day divine. 
'Tis in the convent of San Paolo, 
Whereof my aunt is Abbess. She fulfils 
The time of her noviciate there, which past, 
She takes the veil. I kept myself conceal'd 
Till that were done ; and now the day draws near, 
St. Michael's Eve, and luckless that I am 
These marshalsmen have clutch'd me. 

SILISCO. 

Luckless ? No ; 
When we two come together, I deny 
l 3 



150 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act 

That Fortune can be adverse. Two to four ? 
What could we wish ? Ruggiero, by my life 
My blood is bounding in me at the thought 
As wildly as an unbroken Barbary horse. 
Hark ! are they coming ? 

RUGGIERO. 

Now I know thee well. 
Thy blooming, gay, ungovernable youth 
Comes back upon thy face. But rein it in, 
Rein in, Silisco, the wild Barbary horse. 
These marshalsmen, untoward as they are, 
But execute the service that they owe. 
I would not harm them. 

SILISCO. 

Circumvent them then/ 
By stratagem we'll spare to break their bones. 
Yes, yes ; I see ; by stratagem well work ; 
We'll touch them not ; we will not lift a hand ; 
Yet shall they fly like madmen through the wood, 
And leave you free. My wits have been to school 
In many an exigency exercis'd 
Since last we met, and scarce shall find their match 
In clowns like these. 



scene I.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 151 

Re-enter the Provost and the Marshalsmen, the first 
carrying rushes and utensils for cooking, the others 
dry sticks. 

PROVOST. 

Aye, put a light to these, and we shall soon have a 
blaze. 

SILISCO. 

Oh, Sir ! I pray you, Sir, do not step upon the 
hearth-stone. Nor you, Sir ; nor you. 

FIRST MARSHALSMAN. 

What should hinder us ? what's in the hearth-stone ? 

SILISCO. 

I beseech you, do not. See now! they have trampled 
over it, all three of them. 

PROVOST. 

Why what, Sir ? what then ? 

SILISCO. 

Why, did you not say that stain on it was from the 
blood of some malefactor ? 

PROVOST. 

Aye, it was old Guffo. How hard he died, the old 
fool! He was hacked and chopped from nape to 

l 4 



152 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

chine before he fell, and the blood streaming down 
his white beard ! Ugh ! it makes me shudder to think 
of it! 

SILISCO. 

And know ye not, then, that this is the night of the 
release of Barabbas ? 

PROVOST. 

I knew it not ; but what if it be ? 

SILISCO. 

Must a man travel to the Holy Land to know that? 
Surely ye are not so ignorant but ye know that there 
is this night a jubilee of all the malefactors in the 
regions below, and that if any one shall have trodden 
this day on the blood of a malefactor, his ghost is per- 
mitted to rise at twelve o'clock of the night, on the 
spot where his blood was trampled. 

PROVOST. 

Where heard'st thou that, Sir Pilgrim ? 

SILISCO. ' 

What is there ! 

[Starts back and overturns the table. The 
Marshalsmen rush out of the house, the 
Provost following and calling them back. 



scene i.] THE VIKGIN WIDOW, 153 

Did I not tell you that their wits were weak ? I'll 
warrant them to run three miles through bog and 
briar, before they stop to take breath. 

RUGGIERO. 

An easy riddance. But the Provost is a shrewd 
fellow. 

SILISCO. 

Should he waylay us, we have but to trip up his heels 
and bind him to a tree ; and if he hath upon him the 
key which unlocks these fetters, there is the edge of a 
file saved. But whither shall we go? 

RUGGIERO. 

The convent of San Paolo is not far distant : St. 
Michael's Eve is at hand: and I would fain bid 
Lisana farewell, and see her take the veil. We will 
not seek harbour there before that day, lest we should 
be tracked and she be hindered ; but if thou wilt, 
let us live like wild hunters in the woods till St. 
Michael's Eve. 

SILISCO. 

Have with you ! there's no roof-tree that I love 
Like the live roof-tree of the forest. Come. 

[Exeunt. 



154 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

SCENE II. 
A Room of State in the King's Palace at Palermo — 
Rosalba, Fiordeliza, and an Usher. 

USHER. 

Madam, his good Lordship your father bade me say he 

is seeking the King, and will presently bring you 

word what day is fixed for your investiture. 

{Exit. 

ROSALBA. 

This is the chamber. When I see again 
The tapestry and old chairs, a very dream 
Seems the past year, from which, awakening now, 
My childhood seems the sole reality. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Yet if I err not, when we last were here 
Your childhood was the dream ; the life you then 
Were wakening to seem'd very sweetly real. 
Do you remember ? 'twas the second time 
You met Silisco. 

ROSALBA. 

Three long days had past 
(Long though delightful, for they teem'd with thoughts 



scene ii.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 155 

As Maydays teem with flowers) since I had first 
Beheld him, standing in the sunset lights 
Beside a wreck half-buried in the sand 
Upon the western shore. I see him now 
A radiant creature with the sunset glow 
Upon his face, that mingled with a glow 
Yet sunnier from within. When next we met 
'Twas here, as you have said ; and then his mien 
Was lighter, with an outward brightness clad. 
For all the Court was present ; yet I saw 
The other ardour through. 

FIORDELIZA. 

And when he came 
Before the throne and knelt, I watch'd you both, 
For I was half suspicious, and I saw 
How from the King his quick eye glanc'd aside, 
And gaily for a furtive moment fix'd 
Upon yon Venus rising from the sea 
Wrought in the tapestry ; then he rose and bow'd 
To you, who answer'd with your sweetest smile, 
Whilst old Count Ugo .... 



156 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

ROSALBA. 

Oh, my Fiordeliza ! 
These tears — these tears — they ought to be for him, 
The good old man — so pious, so benign, 
So generous, — they ought to be for him, 
And yet they are not. It is God rewards 
Such bounty and benignity as his ! 
God saw his heart, that it was fill'd with love, 
And mine a cold, unhallow'd, thankless void, 
And took him from me — took him to Himself 

FIORDELIZA. 

Hush ! here's your father. 

Enter Ubaldo. 
ubaldo. 
I have sought the King, 
But vainly. He secludes, himself, they say, 
Being St. Michael's Eve, for castigation, 
(Good, excellent man ! what land was e'er so blest !) 
That he may hold high festival unhurt 
To-morrow. But I doubt not of the day. 
Be here to-morrow, when the Court is held, 
And you shall take your lands. 



scene II.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 157 

ROSALBA. 

Oh, father dear, 
May not this homage be more private ? 

UBALDO. 

What! 
A private homage ! never heard of one. 
'Tis coram curia ; it must be. Come. 

\_Exeunt 

Enter The King and ^Nitedo, Groom of the 
Chambers. 

NITIDO. 

I have tracked her, my Lord ; I have smelt her out ; 
and she shall be found in the convent of San Paolo. 

THE KING. 

Is that certain ? 

NITIDO. 

She was seen there by the bedside of a singing girl 
called Aretina, once one of the wild ones at Palermo, 
now dying devout in the convent hospital, and nursed 
by Lisana. Aretina sent for her brethren to speak 
a word of warning to them before she died ; they saw 
Lisana, and brought word to me that she was then 
about to profess, her noviciate being just expired. 



158 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

THE KINO. 

Go to Haggai, the old Jew, and bid him come to me 
instantly. Provide me a habit of a Franciscan 
friar, and meet me here an hour after sunset. 

[Exeunt. 



SCENE III. 



The Chapel of the Convent of San Paolo— The 
Abbess, Silisco, and Ruggiero. 

RUGGIERO. 

A welcome day ! And is her mind then giv'n 
To heavenly thoughts, and totally discharg'd 
Of that unhappy passion which so seiz'd 
Her spirit for the King ? 

ABBESS. 

Ere wan'd one moon 
Of her noviciate, it had pass'd away 
Like the soft tumult of a summer storm. 
But, cousin, of yourself? say whither next? 
May I in this deliverance rejoice? 
Will you live safely now beyond the seas ? 



scene in.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 159 

RUGGIERO. 

Not so ; it was but for Lisana's sake 
That I was fain to skulk. Her lot secur'd, 
I feel my freedom. I am free thenceforth 
To enter on captivity. 

SILISCO. 

He scorns 
To hide his head upon his own behalf , 
When charges lie against him, that assault 
His unstain'd honour. Would that I could wend 
With him to Court ; for thither, as I learn, 
Resorts Count Ugo's widow, whom I seek. 
But in Palermo is a villanous tribe 
Of Jews that set their faces like a flint 
Against me, and with rights my folly gave 
To back them formerly, should they find my slot^ 
Would hunt me to the death, although my skin 
Were all my death could give them. Madam, here 
I fain would hide myself. 

ABBESS. 

Ruggiero's friend 

Do 

Is more than welcome \ and for you, my Lord, 



160 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

You're opportune ; there's here a hapless girl 
Upon her deathbed who craves constantly 
To see you, harbouring in her breast, it seems, 
Some secret that concerns you. 

SILISCO. 

And her name ? 

ABBESS. 

Silvestra, but the name she went by once 
Was Aretina. 

SILISCO. 

Ha ! I knew her well. 
How came she hither ? 

ABBESS. 

Brought some six months since 
Upon a litter by a turbulent troop 
Of wild and shaggy men, who seem'd her friends, 
And crav'd our care to cure her of a wound, 
Whereof she languish'd, given her in a brawl. 
We made her welcome to the hospital, 
And there Lisana nurs'd her night and day, 
And though her body might no more be heard 
Breath'd health upon her soul ; and now her hour 



scene in.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 161 

Approaching, there remains upon her mind, 
She says, this only burthen. Rest you here, 
Good cousin ; here Lisana comes anon, 
And ere the rite proceeds you'll take your leave. 
My Lord, I'll bring you to this girl at once, 
For she is verily at the point of death. 

[Exeunt Abbess and Silisco. 

ruggiero (alone). 
Time was when with a sorrowful regard 
I had beheld the clust'ring tresses clipped, 
The black veil dropped upon a face that beam'd 
With youthful beauty. It is so no more. 
The fairest flower that e'er was born of earth 
Were better cropp'd than cankered. 

Enter Lisana. 

lisana. 

Oh, my Lord, 

In this a crowning kindness you confer. 

I pray'd for this, and faithless as I was, 

Now that the day had come that was the last, 

I thought my prayer denied. Oh friend belov'd, 

Who propp'd this weak heart in its weakest hour, 

M 



162 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

Eejoice with me, rejoice ! Your work is done, 
Your recompence achiev'd ! a soul is sav'd — 
A joyful^ thankful soul ! 

RUGG1ERO. 

Lisana, yes ; 
I will rejoice ; I do ; though mortal eyes 
Must still have lookings backward. Yet 'tis best ; 
The holiest verily are the sweetest thoughts, 
And sweetest thoughts were ever of your heart 
The native growth. 

LISANA. 

No more of that, my Lord ; 
It savours of the blandishments of earth. 
Look onward only — up the eminent path 
To which you led me — which my feet have trodden 
With gladness, issuing daily to the light, 
Till meeting now the radiance, face to face, 
Earth melts, Heaven opens, Angels stretch their hands 
To take me in amongst them, glory breaks 
Upon me, and I feel through all my soul 
That there is joy, joy over me in Heaven. 



scene ni.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 163 

RUGGIEEO. 

Then joy too shall be over you on earth. 

My eyes shall never more behold your face 

Till, looking through the grave and gate of death, 

I see it glorified and like to His 

Who rais'd it ; but I will not waste a sigh 

On what, if seeing, I should see to fade. 

LISANA. 

Farewell ! my Master calls me. 

RUGGIERO. 

Fare you well. 
I pace a lower terrace ; but some flowers 
From yours fling down to me, at least in prayer. 

LISANA. 

Oh beautiful on the mountains are the feet 

Of those who bring what you have brought to me ! 

And joy and beauty shall bestrew your path 

If prayers of mine may prosper. Fare you well. 

[ She retires within the rail of the altar in the 
back-scene. Sacred music is heard. Proces- 
sions of monks and nuns pass in. She kneels ; 
her hair is shorn; a blessing is pronounced 
upon her by a Bishop ; she retires ; and the 
monks and nuns follow. 

M 2 



164 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

RUGGIERO. 

There passes from the sight of man a face 

More fit for angels than for men to see ; 

A face that I shall think of in my prayers 

To nourish my devotion. Now for earth 

And earth-encumbered ways. Oh wilderness, 

Whose undergrowths and overgrowths conspire 

To darken and entangle — here a mesh 

Of petty prickly hindrance, there the wreck 

Of some high purpose stricken by the storm — 

What wary walking shall suffice to thrid 

Thy thickets ? Happy they who walk by faith, 

And in the dark by things unseen supported ! 

Knowing that clouds and darkness lead to light 

Which else werereach'd not — knowing as they speed, 

That in this mortal journeying, wasted shade 

Is worse than wasted sunshine. 

Enter Silisco. 

How is this ? 
A tear upon your cheek ? 

SILISCO. 

Is that so strange ? 
Dear soul ! Her death was worthy to be wept 
With showers of tears. 



scene in.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 165 

RUGGIERO. 

Is Aretina dead ? 

SILISCO. 

Died in my arms but now, meek penitent ! 
With love and joy upon her lips — so sweet 
'Twas as the dying of a summer's day ; 
And blessed was the chance which brought me here 
In time to make her happier in her death. 

RUGGIERO. 

What was it you could do ? 

SILISCO. 

Her mind, poor girl, 
Was burden'd with two secrets — ■ one the love 
She bare me in our earlier jocund days, 
Which 'twas a solace to disclose in death— 
The other of strange import — on her tongue 
To tell me when we jostled in the cave 
And base Spadone stabbed her from behind. 
'Twas this, — that that same treasure which was 

brought 
From Rhodes on board the luckless Maddalena, — 
That treasure which we deem'd Calabrian Seas 
m 3 



166 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

Had swallow'd with the Boatswain and the Mate 
What time you chas'd them riding on the storm 
And saw them founder, — that that treasure still 
Is extant upon earth, lodg'd in that cave. 

RUGGIERO. 

Why then your fortunes are rebuilt. 

SILISCO. 

Much more 
The fortunes of those three rapacious Jews 
Whose claim did to my drowning fortunes cling, 
And now will choke them as they come to the top. 
Still am I fortunate that I can face 
All claimants, be they Christians, Jews, or Turks ; 
And fortunate beyond my hope in this, — 
That I can instantaneously repair 
In person to Palermo, to fulfil 
My mission to Rosalba. 

RUGGIERO. 

Speed you well ! 
I'll follow you to-morrow. For this night 
In courtesy I needs must sojourn here. 



[Exeunt 



scene iv.] THE VIKGIN WIDOW. 167 

SCENE IV. 

The Pass of Smarrimento in the Mountains near the 
Convent of San Paolo — Haggai and Sadoc. 

HAGGAI. 

The shadows of the rocks fall so black in the moon- 
shine, that if we stand up close he shall not see us 
at five yards. 

SADOC. 

Yet is threfe to one better than two ; and if Shallum 
have failed us ... . But I will whistle again. 

[ Whistles, 

Enter Shallum. 

SHALLUM. 

What's here to do, my brethren? Your messenger 
was instant with me, and I came; but I like not the 
mountains by night. 

SADOC. 

Why thou hast nothing to lose ? 

SHALLUM. 

Except my life. 

m 4 



168 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

HAGGAI. 

And ten thousand ducats to gain. Here, put this 
cloak on, and when thou nearest a step, draw this 
mask over thy face. 

SHALLUM. 

What, what ! I will not — nay ! What is in hand ? 

HAGGAI. 

Briefly, the King sent for me secretly this morning, 
to borrow ten thousand ducats, and for a small con- 
sideration I learnt from Master Nitido, that it was 
wanted for the spoiling of a maiden which prepareth 
herself to be a nun, and that the King should disguise 
himself as a friar, and go forth this night to seek her 
at the Convent of San Paolo, and should take the 
money with him. Monstrous ! that such store of gold 
should be lavished in the trafficking with a convent 
and the loosening of the girdle of a maid ! Well ! 
he shall shortly pass this way, and then shall we take 
back, to be used in an honest and profitable employ- 
ment, that gold which, to serve a filthy and villan- 
ous attempt, I was, as it were, almost constrained 
to give. 



scene iv.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 169 

SHALLUM. 

Haggai ! Thou would'st not rob the King. 

HAGGAI. 

Yea, mine own father, if it were to save him from sin, 

SHALLUM. 

The whole country should be aroused to discover who 
were the robbers which had robbed the King. 

HAGGAI. 

Thou errest. To disclose the robbery were to betray 
himself. He will return discomfited from his enter- 
prise, and hide his countenance from the shame 
thereof. Come, be of a good courage, and get thee 
ready. Look up, Shallum ! make a cheerful noise to 
the God of Jacob. When it came into my heart to 
think this thing, and I considered that the gold which 
passed from me at noon should return to me ere the 
second watch, I was as a man that rejoiceth in his 
own ; yea, I skipped like a ram. 

SHALLUM. 

I like it not ; I like not this. I am an aged man ; 
neither am I bold as one that useth to take with the 
strong hand. 



170 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 



SADOC. 



Hark! 



HAGGAI. 

Stand up here, Shallum. 

SHALLUM. 

I cannot, I cannot. My flesh trembleth and my belly 
cleaveth to the ground. 

SADOC. 

Then get thee up yonder, and when we fall upon him, 
jump from rock to rock overhead, and cry ' Ho ' here 
and ' Ha ' there, and ' smite him ' on the right hand, 
and ' throttle him ' on the left ; and so thou which art 
but half a man shalt seem as thou wert ten men. 

SHALLUM. 

Yea, I will up yonder. I will jump. 

HAGGAI. 

Begone then, for I hear a step. 

[Shallum climbs up the rocks. 



scene iv.] THE VIKGIN WIDOW. 171 

The King enter -s, and is assailed by Haggai and 
Sadoc, with cries of " Booty! booty ! Kill him ! cut 
his throat ! What! wilt thou ? What ! wilt thou f 
What! ten to one and stand out!" whilst Shallum 
shouts from the rocks overhead. Then enter Silisco, 

SILISCO. 

What's here ! a murder ? Villains, take ye that. 

[Stabs Haggai, who falls. Sadoc 
and Shallum fly. 

HAGGAI. 

I'm slain, slain, slain ! Oh, woe is me ! I die. 
Oh, Sadoc, Shallum, cowards, traitors, knaves ! 
No manhood in you, none ! I die, I die. 

\Dies. 

SILISCO. 

Sadoc and Shallum ! As I live, this wretch 
Is Haggai, the old Jew. 

the king {taking the mask from the face). 
Brave Pilgrim, yes ; 
I knew him, and 'tis he. But who art thou, 
To whom I owe my all unworthy life ? 



172 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

SIL1SCO. 

My name is Buonaiuto. Sir, for yours 
I am not so undutiful to ask 
What, if the moonlight and my erring ears 
Beguile me not, I may be bold to guess, 
You loth to speak. 

THE KING. 

Sir, if you know me, this 
You likewise know, that deep as is my debt 
For this your service, I have power to pay it. 
Name what you will. 

silisco. 
My Lord, when next we meet 
It may be I shall ask you to remember 
The business of to-night. 

THE KING. 

Meanwhile, good friend, 

Be secret. In my tustle with those knaves 

I got some hurts and strains. I pray you, Sir, 

To help me hence, and find me, if you can, 

A horse to take me to Palermo. So. 

I walk but clumsily. I thank you. So. 

[Exeunt. 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 173 

SCENE V. 

The Audience Chamber in the Palace at Palermo — 
Enter Steward, Under-steward, and Attendants. 

STEWARD. 

Call you this a Hall of Audience ? Why 'tis a ship's 
cabin in a gale o' wind. Here, Trollo, move this table 
to the wall, and set the throne upon its legs. Where's 
Grossi ? Be tender with it, for the three legs that are 
old have the dry-rot, and the one that is new hath a 
warp. Is Grossi here ? 

UNDER-STEWARD. 

No, Sir, he is ill of a surfeit. 

STEWARD. 

I thought so. A walk betwixt bed and board is the 
best of his day's work. Where is Tornado ? 

UNDER-STEWARD. 

He hath a quarrel with Secco, and will not come in 
the same room with him. 

STEWARD. 

The cause — the cause ? 

UNDER-STEWARD. 

Nay, Sir, I know not that. 



174 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

STEWARD. 

Then I will tell you, Sir ; short work's the cause ; 
Short work it is fills palaces with strife. 
Nothing-to-do was Master Squabble's mother, 
And Much-ado his child. A chair of state 
Each side the throne. The Chamberlain's is one ; 
The other the Justiciary's. So. 
A footstool for the Chamberlain. That gout 
Will one day be the death of him. There — so — 
Now all's in order as befits a Court ; 
Chambering is seated on the right o' the King, 
And Justice on his left. Here's Nitido. 

Enter Nitido, with a ewer and napkins. 
What, is the King not risen ? 

NITIDO. 

He's risen but now ; 
Three hours behind his wont. 

STEWARD. 

Is he not well ? 

NITIDO. 

He says that being troubled in his dreams 
He walk'd in sleep, and falling from the sill 
Received some hurts and strains. 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 175 

STEWARD, 

Ay truly, Sir ! 
And hath he seen the Doctor ? 

NITIDO. 

No, nor will. 
He says he never in his life was sick 
But when he saw the Doctor. He is rob'd 
And will be here anon. Off! Off! he comes ! 

[Exeunt. 

Enter The King, Ubaldo, the Chief Justiciary 

followed by the Principal Judicial Functionaries ', a 

crowd of Officers and Courtiers^ amongst whom is 

Silisco, still in his Pilgrim's garb. Tribolo the 

King's Fool, Fiordeliza, and Ladies of the Court. 

uealdo. 
It is a trick of youthful blood. In my youth I too 
would walk in my sleep. I remember Filipo Reni 
mistook me for the ghost of Angelina Spinola, w r hom 
he had forsaken. 

tribolo. 
And I would walk too. I remember, walking in my 
sleep one night, I came into Mistress Barbara Malfatto's 



176 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

bedchamber, and again very suddenly proceeded forth* 
of it by the way of the window ; but whether sleeping 
I walked out, or waking was tumbled out, is not 
written in the Clown's Chronicle. 

THE KING. 

Did'st thou fall far ? 

TRIBOLO. 

I fell in the garden, and the stem of a daffodilly was 
broken, besides my leg. My leg was set, and some 
foolish women call it the best leg in Palermo to this 
day. But the daffodilly died of it ; and his last words 
were . . , 

UBALDO. 

Enough, Fool ; stand aside. 

TRIBOLO. 

Stand aside, the world is wide — 
There's room for folly and place for pride. 

Which is which ? 

Quoth the poor to the rich. 

UBALDO. 

Now, if it please your Majesty, this child — 
Where is she ? — shall perform her ho mage due 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 177 

And take investiture of Count Ugo's lands, 
Where. is the Countess ? 

FIORDELIZA. 

She was here but now. 
She went but to her chamber. 

UBALDO. 

Go and fetch her. 

\Exit an Usher. 

THE KING. 

Meanwhile, if any here, Sirs, hath a suit, 
This is St. Michael's festival ; 'tis now 
His time to speak. 

silisco (stepping from the crowd). 

Sir. if it please your Grace, 
A suit have I. 

THE KING. 

What suit it be I know not ; 
But this I know, that thou hast rights and claims 
Which none but I can estimate. Prefer 
Thy suit, or better leave to me to name 
Unsu'd for thy reward. Three Jews there be, 
The one called Haggai, who died yesterday, 
The other two, Sadoc by name and Shallum, 

N 



178 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

Whose lives and goods are forfeit to the law. 
Those goods, whate'er the value, shall be thine,, 
Good Pilgrim ; Fame delivers them not less 
Than a King's ransom ; but if Fame should err, 
Ask more, and it is granted. 

SILISCO. 

Sire, the sense 
Of loyal service done is, unbegilt, 
Worth what you say, the ransom of a King. 
These goods, the forfeits of those felon Jews, 
Were sometime own'd by that unhappy youth 
They prey'd upon, the Lord of Malespina. 
I would accept them gladly at your hands ; 
And yet .... 

THE KING. 

Speak freely. Aught beside ? 

SILISCO. 

And yet 
More gladly would forego them and receive 
Another boon, the pardon, shall I say, 
Where fault is none ? the pardon of a man 
Whom should you in your royal heart replace 
3Tou should yourself replenish and repay 



Scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 179 

My service fifty-fold — the pardon, Sire, 
Of one whom once you counted with the first 
Of councillors and friends, the Lord Ruggiero, 
Count of Arona. 

UBALDO. 

Pilgrim, art thou mad ? 
Know'st thou this presence ? 

THE KING. 

Let him speak, my Lord ; 
He knows his privilege and the presence too. 
He's by permission bold. The suit he moves 
Is one of grave concern. That outlaw'd Count 
I have some cause to think was falsely charged. 
It may be that too light an ear I lent 
Too willingly to enemies of his 
That were no friends to me. But whilst he hides 
And bids defiance to our writ, our grace 
Can scarcely flow toward him. 

SILISCO. 

Sire, not long 
Shall that obstruction stand against the tide 
Of your free grace and favour. 

N 2 



180 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

THE KING. 

Here is she 
Whose comely presence, wheresoever she moves, 
Makes in itself a festival. The day 
Is more adorned. 

Enter Rosalba. 

Lady, before I claim 
The homage to my sovereignty owing, 
'Tis fit that to that sovereignty of yours 
Which Nature crowns I bow. Queen had I been, 
Not King, I gladly would have given my crown 
In barter for your beauty. 

ROSALBA. 

Nay, my Lord, 
You had not then so easily been pleas'd. 
I pray you, father, prompt me with those words 
I ought to speak. 

TJBALDO. 

Kneel first and put thy hands .... 

THE CHIEF JUSTICIARY. 

Beseech you pardon me, Lord Chamberlain, 
This homage by the law may not proceed 
Until Count Ugo's testament be read. 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 181 

None doubts the Countess by the will inherits; 
Still doth the law demand that it be read. 

UBALDO. 

Ho, ho ! my Lord Justiciary ! What's this ? 
Here is the King, the fountain-head of justice ! 
Who is it that shall dare block up its course 
With muddy gatherings and old wrecks of laws ? 
You, Sir? or you ? or you ? The good Count died 
In Palestine, and if a will there was 
No note of it remains. 

THE KING. 

Indeed, my Lord ! 
I would it were not so ; for I must needs 
Stay this procedure. Deem not I was false, 
Sweet Lady, or but coining courtly words 
In owning to a sovereignty of yours ; 
For over both of us the Law is King, 
And I am most constraint. 

Enter an Usher with Gerbetto. 

usher. 

So please your Grace, 

Gerbetto, the Physician. 

N 3 



182 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

GERBETTO. 

To your Grace 
I bear a mission from the Count deceas'd, 
Whom I to Palestine attended : this 
He charg'd me to deliver to none but you. 

[Delivers a packet to the King. 

THE KING. 

'Tis the Count's hand, tho' shaken. 'Tis his will. 

UBALDO. 

Ah ! there's a guardian angel ever waits 
Upon your Grace ! You cannot if you would 
Eun cross or counter ! See, Sirs, here's the will ! 
You're right, my Lord ; the law is still supreme. 
A will there should be, and a will there is. 

THE KING. 

'Tis strange in purport. . " I, Count TJgo, leave 
My body to the earth, my soul to God. 
My worldly chattels to my wife J leave 
Should she remain unwedded. Should she wed, 
Or quit this life, I leave them to a friend 
And fellow pilgrim to this shrine, by name 
' Buonaiuto,' witnessing whereto 
I set my hand and seal." 



scene v,] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 183 

UBALDO. 

A pilgrim quotha ! 
A pilgrim to succeed ! Impossible ! 
A man unknown, unheard of! 

THE JUSTICIARY. 

Strange bequest ! 

UBALDO. 

Waste paper ! Rubbish ! A preposterous will ! 
The good old Count had doubtless lost his wits 
Before he died. We saw what small remains 
Were left him when he took the mad resolve 
To travel ; and that little he had left 
Did plainly die before him. 

ROSALBA. 

Speak not so, 
Dear Father ; he had doubtless good designs. 
And knew what he was doing. 

the king {to Gerbetto). 

Was it so ? 
gerbetto. 
The wits that he took hence, my Lord, he kept 
To his last breath. But I can partly solve 

n 4 



184 THE VIRGIN WIDOW, [act v. 

The riddle of this will. The man it names 

Was with the Count throughout ; by sea and land, 

In troubles and in dangers numberless ; 

In perils of the elements in ships ; 

In perils of wild beasts in woods and wolds ; 

In perils of the midnight robber's knife ; 

By thirst and hunger in the desert tried, 

Fever and sickness in the river's mouth ; 

By strife and blows in cities ; and through all 

That pilgrim bare himself as vow'd and sworn 

To think of danger, sickness, pain, and death 

As accidents unworthy to be weigh'd 

With one hour's comfort he could yield the Count. 

Thus therefore is it that the Count was moved 

Doubtless to make this will. 

THE KING. 

And what became 
Of this good pilgrim ? Hast thou seen him since ? 

GERBETTO. 

We parted, Sire .... By Heaven, I see him now ! 
This is the man ! 



scene v.] THE VIKGIN WIDOW. 185 

THE KING. 

This he ? our friend at need ! 
He's some knight-errant then that roams the earth 
In search of bold adventures. 

SILISCO. 

Sire, not so. , 

That which for good Count Ugo I perform'd 
Fell short of what I owed him, which was more 
Than kingdoms could repay. 

ROSALBA. 

Whate'er it be 
You owed him, Sir, it cannot be the half 
Of what I owe to you. The lands he left 
Will never through my second marriage fall, 
As he provided, to redeem the debt ; 
But I would fain devolve them .... 

UBALDO. 

Daughter ! child ! 
I pray you take me with you. Faith of my body ! 
Devolve them truly ! 

SILISCO, 

Lady, as you say, 
It may be that your second nuptials ne'er 



186 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

Shall turn to good for me ; but save by these 

I cannot, nor I will not be repaid. 

You knew me once. I trust that I am chang'd 

No less in mind than mien, and merit more 

When known to be esteem'd. That rests with you 

To credit or to doubt. But such as now 

He is, or like or unlike what he was, 

You see, thus stripp'd of this dissembling garb, 

Him that was once the Lord of Malespina. 

ROSALBA. 

It is, it is Silisco ! 

SILISCO. 

Yes, in name, 
Perhaps in fortunes, but in nature not 
The same Silisco. Lady, once you said 
" A spendthrift never yet. was generous." 
The word dwelt with me, and its strength and truth 
By anguish aided and adversity , 
Wrought in my heart an inward change entire, 
And some things you have heard may seem to show 
I am not what I was — ungenerous. 
But should I press you now for my reward 
I well might seem so. Thus once more to touch 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 187 

This hand with lips unus'd to softness now 
Shall be my present meed. 

ROSALBA. 

So strangely fast 
Events have come upon me, that my head 
Is half bewilder'd ; but my heart is clear ; 
And lost indeed to sense and love and life 
That heart must be or e'er it could deny 
That it is all your own. 

UBALDO. 

v Why, well ! why, well ! 
This wheel of Fortune turns about, my Lord. 
'Tis very strange ! but I believe you well — 
That you will use your riches thus restor'd 
With better sense of what they're worth. 

THE PROVOST MARSHAL. 

My Lords, 
My duty bids me disabuse your minds. 
This is no more my Lord of Malespina 
Than I am King of Sicily. 

THE KING. 

How so ? 



188 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

THE PROVOST MARSHAL. 

This is that very rogue that tripp'd me up 
And in the forest set my prisoner free, 
The Lord Ruggiero. 

SILISCO. 

Sire, I needs must own 
That I was guilty of that rescue. Still 
I hope to be forgiven ; for here is he 
I rescu'd, ready to repair the fault 
By re-surrender. 

Enter Ruggiero. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Oh, Rosalba, see! 
See who is here ! What will be done ? Oh, Heaven ! 
Yet the King looks not angry. 

THE KING. 

Count, not yet — 
Speak not till I have spoken, lest your pleas 
Forestall me of my justice in acquittal. 
Of that offence which thou wert charged withal 
Touching thine office I confess thee free. 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 189 

Some flatterers of some follies of mine own 
Were forgers of the charge. I think, besides, 
Thou canst acquit thee on another score, 
Tho' there myself was thine accuser, moved 
I know not by what promptings of the devil. 
I think that thou canst render good account 
Of that fair maid Lisana, whom by stealth 
Thou took'st so suddenly from the Court. 

RUGGIERO. 

My Lord, 
The maid you speak of is profess'd a Nun ; 
A Nun since yesterday. I lived conceal'd, 
For her sake solely, till the Church could claim 
That guardianship she had till now from me. 

THE KING. 

Something of this had reach'd me. You stand clear 
With me, my Lord ; and with no little shame 
Nor light compunction for mine own misdeeds 
Your offices and honours I restore. 
But where is she with whom to stand absolv'd 
Is best of absolutions — where is she 
To whom to be restord is more, I know. 
Than Kings can give or take ? 



190 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. 

RUGGIERO. 

When last we met 
A cloudy fate had compass'd me about, 
And I was not so fortunate to please 
Her whom to please in duty, faith, and truth, 
Has been my life's endeavour : am I now 
More happy, standing in the light ? 

FIORDELIZA. 

Tome 
Is it you speak ? 

SILISCO. 

Rosalba, look ! the tears 
Break o'er the saucy brightness of her face 
First to make answer. 

FIORDELIZA. 

What am I to say ? 
I wonder, Sir, what business 'twas of yours 
To make that maid a runaway at first, 
And then, when you were tired of her, a Nun. 

RUGGIERO. 

Lady, I think you ask me this in sport ; 
But were it ask'd in earnest, I should pray 
Gerbetto to make answer. 



scene v.] THE VIRGIN WIDOW. 191 

GERBETTO. 

Lady, yes, 
'Tis I should speak to this. When summon'd hence 
To Palestine, I left my child in charge 
To this good knight, and well hath he fulfilPd 
The trust he took upon him. 

THE KING. 

Surely now 
You will not so untoward be to try 
His patience longer. Think how many a year 
His suit hath linger'd. 

FIOKDELEZA. 

Well, Sir, if your Grace 
Hath less of patience left in looking on 
Than I that bear the burthen, — then, I think, 
It may be, for your ease and for mine own, 
I shall be tutored to say u Yes " — in time. 
The scarecrow, Sir, was married to the maypole 
In time ; but, bless me ! 'twas a tedious courtship, 

RUGGIERO. 

On your own time and humour will I wait, 

As heretofore, 



192 THE VIRGIN WIDOW. [act v. sc. v. 

FIORDELIZA. 

Then, dear Ruggiero, Yes. 
For 'tis "my humour that the time be now. 

SILISCO. 

Then shall this glorious NOW be crowned the Queen 

Of all the hours in all the ages past, 

Since the first Morning's rosy finger touch'd 

The bowers of Eden. Grace defend my heart 

That now it bound not back to what it was 

In days of old, forgetting all that since 

Has tried and tamed it ! No, Eosalba, no — 

Albeit yon waves be bright as on the day 

When, dancing to the shore from Procida, 

They brought me a new joy, yet fear me not — 

The joy falls now upon a heart prepar'd 

By many a trouble, many a trial past, 

And striking root, shall flourish and stand fast. 



THE END. 



London : 

Spottiswoodes and Shaw, 

New-str set- Square. 






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